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Columbia  ^nibergitp 

in  tlje  Citp  of  iOJeto  |9orfe 


LIBRARY 


GIVEN   BY 


Estate     of 
Stephen  G,   Wiiii£.ins 


BY  THE  SAME  AUTHOR 

"  That  valuable  public  servant, 
the  Gentleman  with  a  Duster." 

— G.  K.  Chesterton. 

The  Mirrors  of  Downing  Street 
Some  Political  Reflections 


The  Glass  of  Fashion 
Some  Social  Reflections 


BISHOP  GORE 


PAINTED  WINDOWS 

STUDIES  IN 
RELIGIOUS  PERSONALITY 


BY 

A  GENTLEMAN  WITH  A  DUSTER 

AUTHOR  OF  "the  MIRRORS  OF  DOWNING  STREET*' 


WITH  AN   INTRODUCTION  BY   KIRSOPP  LAKE 


It  was  simply  a  struggle  for  fresh  air,  in  which,  if 
the  windows  could  not  be  opened,  there  Was  danger 
that  panes  would  be  broken,  though  painted  with 
images  of  saints  and  martyrs.  Light,  coloured  by 
these  reverend  effigies,  was  none  the  more  respirable 
for  being  picturesque. 

J.  R.  Lowell. 


WITH  ILLUSTRATIONS  BY  EMILE  VERPILLEUX 


G.  P.  PUTNAM'S  SONS 
NEW  YORK  AND  LONDON 
Ube   Iknicfterbocfter    press 

1922 


Copyright,  1922 

by 

G.  P.  Putnam's  Sons 


Made  in  the  United  States  of  America 

For  the  information  presented  in  the  biographical  records  connected  with 
the  several  chapters  the  publishers  desire  to  express  their  indebtedness  to 
"Who's  Who." 


^,5\ 


^;J"  FOREWORD 

By  Professor  Kirsopp  Lake 

No  one  who  believes  that  the  Christian  churches  have  in 
the  past  been  the  moral  leaders  of  western  civilization 
can  fail  to  be  interested  in  the  presentation  of  some  of 
the  English  reHgious  leaders  by  "A  Gentleman  with  a 
Duster  "  especially  if,  like  myself,  he  have  some  passing 
acquaintance  with  most  of  them.  Nor  can  any  neglect 
to  regard  seriously  his  warning  that  the  Church  is  failing 
as  a  moral  leader. 

What  is  the  reason  for  that  failure?  It  cannot,  I 
think,  be  found  in  lack  of  earnestness ;  for  today  all  the 
guides  of  the  churches  in  England  are  serious,  upright 
men,  who  would  gladly  lead  if  they  could.  Nor  is  it 
because  they  are  voices  uttering  strange  announcements 
in  the  wilderness ;  if  they  have  a  fault  it  is  rather  that 
they  have  so  little  to  announce.  The  defect  which  is 
disclosed  by  the  pictures  given  by  "A  Gentleman  with 
a  Duster  "  is  primarily  intellectual,  and  I  propose  to  de- 
vote to  its  explanation  the  introduction  which  the  pub- 
lisher has  asked  me  for  write  for  the  American  edition  of 
Painted  Windows. 

From  the  third  century  to  the  eighteenth  the  Christ- 

iii 


iv  FOREWORD 

ian  Church  presented  views  of  Hfe  and  theories  of  the 
origin,  weakness,  and  possible  redemption  of  human 
nature,  which  were  both  self  consistent  and  rational.  It 
offered  men  an  infallible  guide  of  life,  to  be  found  in  the 
Church,  the  Bible,  and  the  Christ.  Different  branches 
of  the  Christian  church  emphasised  one  or  the  other,  but 
the  three  formed  in  themselves  an  indivisible  trinity. 
Nor  did  the  laity  doubt  that  this  presentation  was 
correct.  The  clergy  were  the  professional  and  expert 
exponents  of  an  infallible  revelation  which  they  had 
studied  deeply  and  knew  better  than  other  men,  and  on 
which  they  spoke  with  the  authority  of  experience.  It 
was  firmly  believed  that  to  follow  their  teaching  would 
lead  to  future  salvation ;  for  the  centre  of  gravity  in  life 
for  seriously  minded  men  was  the  hope  of  attaining 
everlasting  salvation  in  the  world  to  come. 

The  situation  today  is  changed  in  two  directions. 
The  Church,  the  Bible,  and  even  the  Teaching  of  Jesus 
are  no  longer  regarded  as  infallible.  History  first 
abundantly  proved  that  the  voice  of  the  Church  was  not 
inerrant ;  then  science  discredited  the  biblical  account  of 
man's  origin  and  development ;  and  finally  the  "kenotic" 
theory  of  Bishop  Gore  showed  that  what  were  con- 
sidered the  ipsissima  verba  of  the  Lord  himself  could  no 
longer  be  regarded  as  infallible.  The  coup  de  grdce 
to  the  belief  that  Jesus  must  be  followed  literally  was 
administered  by  official  sermons  during  the  war.  This 
does  not  mean  that  men  and  women  within  or  without 
the  Church  do  not  admire  and  venerate  the  teaching  of 


FOREWORD  V 

Jesus  and  regard  him  as  the  best  teacher  whom  they 
know.  But  they  are  not  willing  to  accept  all  his  teach- 
ing ;  they  have  been  forced  to  admit  that  it  is  sometimes 
lawful  to  resist  evil  by  force ;  they  doubt  whether  he  is 
to  appear  as  the  Judge  of  the  living  and  the  dead ;  they 
accept  much  of  his  teaching  and  try  to  follow  it  because 
they  believe  that  it  is  true,  but  they  do  not  believe  that 
it  is  true  because  it  is  his  teaching.  It  is  therefore 
impossible  today  for  educated  men,  even  among  those 
who  most  sincerely  adopt  it,  to  settle  a  moral  argument 
by  an  appeal  to  the  teaching  of  Jesus.  The  tragedy  is 
that  there  are  probably  as  many  today  outside  the 
Church  who  endeavour  to  follow  Jesus,  but  do  not  call 
him  Lord,  as  there  are  within  the  church  who  reverse 
this  attitude.  For  good  or  for  evil  (and  I  think  it  is  for 
evil),  the  Church,  especially  the  Church  of  England, 
seems  to  have  decided  that  to  say  "Lord,  Lord"  is  the 
pass- word  to  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven. 

Equally  important  with  this  great  change  in  thought, 
which  has  abandoned  the  infallible  trinity  of  Church, 
Bible,  and  Jesus,  is  the  fact  that  the  best  of  our  gener- 
ation have  shifted  the  centre  of  endeavour  from  the 
future  salvation  of  the  individual  to  the  present  reform- 
ation of  this  world  for  the  benefit  of  coming  humanity. 
The  best  men  of  our  time  are  troubling  very  little  about 
the  salvation  of  their  own  souls;  not  because  they  are 
indifferent  or  unbelieving,  but  because  they  believe 
that  if  our  lives  are  continued  after  death  it  will  be  a 
natural  and  not  a  supernatural  phenomenon,  of  which 


vi  FOREWORD 

no  details  can  be  known.  They  have  relegated  the 
whole  apparatus  of  Heaven  and  Hell  to  the  limbo  of 
forgotten  mythologies.  The  continuance  of  life  to 
which  they  look  forward  is  progressive  and  educational, 
not  fixed  or  punitive.  Moreover,  most  of  them  would 
say,  with  complete  reverence,  that  the  work  which  is  set 
before  them  by  the  Purpose  of  Life,  as  they  understand 
it,  is  to  make  a  better  world,  materially,  morally,  and 
intellectually,  as  an  inheritance  for  children  who  are  yet 
unborn.  They  are  not  much  disturbed  if  they  are  told 
that  they  are  not  Christians,  for  they  are  supremely 
indifferent  to  names. 

Nevertheless  their  presence  in  the  world  today  is  the 
concrete  problem  to  be  faced  by  Liberal  Churchmen. 
To  consistent  Catholics  such  as  Father  Knox  it  is  not,  I 
suppose,  a  problem  at  all.  He  would  say  that  such  men 
deserve  every  adjective  of  approbation  in  the  diction- 
ary ;  but  they  are  not  Christian.  If  Christianity  means 
a  fixed  set  of  opinions,  "a  faith  once  delivered  to  the 
saints,"  Father  Knox  is  right ;  such  men  are  not  Christ- 
ians, but,  if  so,  the  fact  that  they  are  not  is  the  death 
warrant  of  the  Church,  for  they  represent  progress  to  a 
higher  type  than  that  of  the  Christianity  of  the  past. 

But  the  liberal  Christian  does  not  accept  the  view 
that  the  Church  ought  to  exist  for  the  preservation  of 
traditional  opinions.  In  his  heart  he  feels  that  such 
men  would  have  been  accepted  by  Jesus  as  his  disciples, 
and  therefore  he  believes  that  the  Church  can  and  ought 
to  be  reformed  so  as  to  make  room  for  them.     For  this 


FOREWORD  vii 

Reformation  he  has  no  fixed  and  rigid  programme,  but 
there  are  three  things  which  he  thinks  the  Church  must 
provide. 

The  first  necessity  is  the  right  understanding  of  life. 
It  cannot  be  given  by  any  theory  of  the  universe  which, 
like  the  biblical  one,  is  in  glaring  contradiction  to  the 
facts  of  modern  science.*  Nor  is  it  conceivable  that 
belief  can  be  fixed  so  as  to  be  unalterable.  Intellectual 
correctness  is  relative,  and  Truth  cannot  be  petrified 
into  Creeds,  but  lives  by  discussion,  criticism,  correction, 
and  growth. 

The  second  necessity  is  the  purification  of  the  human 
spirit.  Generation  after  generation  of  Christians  on 
their  way  through  the  world  have  endeavoured  to  follow 
the  moral  teaching  of  the  Church,  but  the  friction  and 
pressure  of  life  always  bring  with  them  many  impurities, 
the  swell  of  passion,  the  blindness  of  temper,  and  the 
thrust  of  desire,  which  a  mere  appeal  to  reason  cannot 
remedy  because  it  condemns  but  does  not  remove  the 
evil.  In  the  future  as  in  the  past,  the  Church  must  find 
means  to  satisfy  men's  need  and  desire  for  purification. 

The  third  is  closely  allied  to  the  second.  It  is  "the 
helping  hand  of  grace."  No  organized  religion  is 
complete  or  satisfactory  which  does  not  understand  that 
when  weak  and  erring  human  beings  call  from  the 
depths,  the  helping  hand  of  grace  is  stretched  out  from 
the  unknown.     The  origin  and  nature  of  grace  is  a 

'Mr.  Bryan  is  right  in  maintaining  that  evolution  and  the  whole 
scientific  concept  of  life  is  unbiblical,  though  wrong  in  thinking  that 
that  settles  the  question. 


viii  FOREWORD 

metaphysical  and  theological  problem;  its  existence  is  a 
fact  of  experience.  And  that  same  experience  shows 
that  though  grace  may  work  apart  from  institutions  it 
does  in  fact  normally  work  through  them. 

These  are  the  three  things  which  the  Liberal  wishes  to 
keep  in  the  Church.  He  knows  that  to  do  this  the 
traditional  forms  of  church  life  require  great  changes, 
but  he  wishes  to  preserve  the  institutional  life  of  the 
Church  as  a  valuable  inheritance.  To  him  it  is  clear 
that  Christians  who  in  one  generation  invented  the 
theology,  the  sacraments,  the  thoughts,  practices,  and 
ordinances  of  the  past,  have  the  right  in  another  gener- 
ation to  change  these.  The  continuity  of  the  Church  is 
in  membership,  not  in  documents. 

But  the  Liberals  fall  into  two  groups.  There  is  the 
left  wing  which  expresses  itself  with  clearness  and 
decision,  which  is  not  afraid  of  recognizing  that  the 
Church  in  the  past  has  often  been  wrong  and  has 
affirmed  as  fact  what  is  really  fiction.  Those  who  be- 
long to  it  are  sometimes  driven  out  by  official  pressure, 
and  more  often  are  compelled  to  yield  to  the  practical 
necessities  of  ecclesiastical  life,  but  their  influence  is 
greater  than  their  numbers.  The  danger  which  would 
face  the  Church  if  they  were  allowed  to  have  more 
prominence,  is  that  their  plainness  of  speech  would  lead 
to  disruption.  The  danger  is  a  real  one,  and  the  leaders 
of  churches  do  right  to  fear  it. 

Over  against  this  is  the  right  wing  of  Liberals.  There 
is  probably  little  difference  in  the  matter  of  private 


FOREWORD  ix 

opinion  between  them  and  the  left  wing,  but  they  are 
more  concerned  with  safeguarding  the  unity  of  the 
Church.  They  endeavour  to  do  this  by  using  the  old 
phraseology  with  a  new  meaning,  so  that,  for  instance, 
members  of  this  party  feel  justified  in  siating  that  they 
accept  the  creed,  though  they  do  not  believe  in  it  in  the 
sense  which  was  originally  intended.  This  is  techni- 
cally called  "reinterpreting,"  and  by  a  sufficient 
amount  of  "reinterpreting"  all  the  articles  of  the  creed 
(or  indeed  anything  else)  can  be  given  whatever  mean- 
ing is  desired.  The  statement  that  God  created  the 
heavens  and  the  earth  becomes  in  this  way  an  affirm- 
ation of  evolution ;  the  Virgin  Birth  affirms  the  reality 
of  Christ's  human  nature;  and  the  Resurrection  of  the 
Flesh  affirms  the  Immortality  of  the  Soul.  Performed 
with  skill,  this  dialectical  legerdemain  is  very  soothing 
to  a  not  unduly  intelligent  congregation  and  prevents 
any  breach  in  the  apparent  continuity  of  the  Church's 
belief.  It  also  prevents  any  undue  acrimoniousness  of 
theological  debate,  for  debate  is  difficult  if  words  may  be 
interpreted  to  mean  the  opposite  of  their  historical 
significance.  The  danger  is  that  the  rising  generation 
will  refuse  to  accept  this  method,  and  that  it  will  lead 
to  deep  and  irretrievable  intellectual  confusion.  This 
is  what  Father  Knox  clearly  saw  to  be  the  intellectual 
sin  of  the  "Foundationers." 

Nevertheless,  when  all  is  said  it  is  easy  to  criticize  but 
difficult  to  advise.  As  "A  Gentleman  with  a  Duster" 
has  seen,  the  desire  of  the  church  leaders  whose  portraits 


X  FOREWORD 

he  paints  is  to  preserve  the  Church  through  a  period  of 
transition.  I  doubt  the  wisdom  of  their  poHcy,  though  I 
recognize  the  difficulty  of  their  task  and  appreciate 
their  motives. 

I  doubt  the  wisdom  of  the  poHcy  because  I  think  that 
though  it  may  satisfy  the  older  members  of  the  Church 
and  so  preserve  continuity  with  the  past,  it  is  doing  so 
at  the  expense  of  the  younger  generation  and  sacrificing 
continuity  with  the  future.  It  may  conciliate  those 
who  have  power  to  make  trouble  in  the  present;  but 
it  is  only  the  young  who  are  now  silently  abandoning 
the  Church,  that  have  the  power  to  give  life  in  the 
future.  It  is  always  safer  to  agree  with  the  old,  but  it  is 
infinitely  more  important  to  convince  the  young;  and 
the  reason  for  the  failure  which  troubles  "A  Gentleman 
with  a  Duster"  is  that  ecclesiastical  life  in  England  is 
failing  to  convince  the  young.     Is  it  better  here  ? 

Cambridge,  U.  S.  A., 
February  5,  1932. 


INTRODUCTION  TO  THE  AMERICAN  EDITION 

Some  of  the  men  whose  personalities  I  attempt  to 
analyse  in  this  volume  are  known  to  American  students 
of  theology:  almost  all  of  them,  I  think,  represent 
schools  of  thought  in  which  America  is  as  greatly  inter- 
ested as  the  people  of  Europe. 

Therefore  I  may  presume  to  hope  that  this  present 
volume  will  find  in  the  United  States  as  many  readers 
as  The  Mirrors  of  Downing  Street  and  The  Glass  oj 
Fashion. 

But,  in  truth,  I  hope  for  much  more  than  this. 

Perhaps  I  may  be  allowed  to  say  that  I  think  Amer- 
ica can  make  a  contribution  to  the  matter  discussed 
in  these  pages  which  will  outrival  in  its  eventual  effect 
on  the  destinies  of  the  human  race  the  contribution  she 
has  already  made  to  world  politics  by  the  inspiration 
of  the  Washington  Conference. 

For  the  American  brings  to  the  study  of  religion  not 
only  a  somewhat  fresher  mind  than  the  European,  but 
a  temperamental  earnestness  about  serious  things 
which  is  the  world's  best  hope  of  creative  action. 
Moreover  there  is  something  Greek  about  the  American. 
He  is  always  young,  as  Greece  was  young  in  the  time 
of  Themistocles  and  .^schylus.     He  is  conscious  of ' '  ex- 

xi 


xii  INTRODUCTION  TO  AMERICAN  EDITION 

hilaration  in  the  air,  a  sense  of  walking  in  new  paths, 
of  dawning  hopes  and  untried  possibilities,  a  con- 
fidence that  all  things  can  be  won  if  only  we  try  hard 
enough,"  With  him  it  is  never  the  exhaustion  of  noon 
or  the  pathetic  beauty  of  twilight :  always  it  is  the  dawn, 
and  every  dawn  a  Renaissance. 

Since  this,  in  my  reading,  is  the  very  spirit  of  the 
teaching  of  Jesus,  I  feel  that  it  must  be  in  the  destiny 
of  America  more  quickly  than  any  other  nation  to 
recognise  the  features  of  Christ  in  those  movements  of 
the  present  day  which  definitely  make  for  the  higher 
life  of  the  human  race.  I  mean  the  movements  of 
science,  psychology,  philosophy,  and  the  politics  of 
idealism. 

If  I  expect  anywhere  on  the  face  of  the  globe  a 
response  to  my  suggestion  that  a  new  definition  of  the 
word  "Faith"  is  a  clue  to  the  secret  of  Jesus,  it  is  in 
America.  If  I  hope  for  recognition  of  my  theory  that 
Christ  should  be  sought  in  the  living  world  and  not  in 
the  documents  of  tradition,  it  is  also  to  America  that  I 
look  for  this  hope  to  be  realised.  The  work  of  William 
James,  Morton  Prince,  and  Kirsopp  Lake  encourages 
me  in  this  conviction ;  but  most  of  all  I  am  encouraged 
by  that  youthful  spirit  of  the  American  nation  which 
looks  backward  as  seldom  as  possible,  forward  with 
exhilaration  and  confidence,  that  manful  spirit  of  hope 
and  longing  which  is  ever  in  earnest  about  serious 
things. 

Here,  then,  is  a  book  which  goes  to  America  with  all 


INTRODUCTION  TO  AMERICAN  EDITION  xiii 

the  highest  hopes  of  its  author — a  book  which  attempts 
to  throw  off  all  those  long  and  hopeless  controversies 
of  theology  concerning  the  Person  of  Christ  which  have 
ever  distracted  and  sometimes  devastated  Europe,  to 
throw  off  all  that,  and  to  show  that  the  good  news  of 
Jesus  was  the  revelation  of  a  strange  and  mighty  power 
which  only  now  the  world  is  beginning  to  use. 


INTRODUCTION 

By  means  of  a  study  in  religious  personality,  I  seek 
in  these  pages  to  discover  a  reason  for  the  present 
rather  ignoble  situation  of  the  Church  in  the  affections 
of  men. 

My  purpose  is  to  examine  the  mind  of  modem 
Christianity,  the  only  religion  of  the  world  with  which 
the  world  can  never  be  done,  because  it  has  the  lasting 
quality  of  growth,  and  to  see  whether  in  the  condition  of 
that  mind  one  cannot  light  upon  a  cause  for  the  con- 
fessed failure  of  the  Church  to  impress  humanity  with 
what  its  documents  call  the  Will  of  God — a  failure  the 
more  perplexing  because  of  the  wonderful  devotion, 
sincerity,  and  almost  boimdless  activity  of  the  modern 
Church. 

As  a  clue  to  the  object  of  this  quest,  I  would  ask 
the  reader  to  bear  in  mind  that  the  present  disordered 
state  of  the  world  is  by  no  means  a  consequence  of  the 
late  War. 

The  state  of  the  world  is  one  of  confusion,  but 
that  confusion  is  immemorial.  Man  has  for  ever 
been  wrestling  with  an  anarchy  which  has  for  ever 
defeated  him.  The  history  of  the  human  race  is 
the  diary  of  a  Bear  Garden.     Man,  so  potent  against 


xvi  INTRODUCTION 

the  mightiest  and  most  august  forces  of  nature,  has 
never  been  able  to  subdue  those  trivial  and  unworthy 
forces  within  his  own  breast — envy,  hatred,  malice, 
and  all  uncharitableness — which  make  for  world  an- 
archy. He  has  never  been  able  to  love  God  because 
he  has  never  been  able  to  love  his  neighbour.  It  is  in 
the  foremost  nations  of  the  world,  not  in  the  most 
backward,  in  the  most  Christian  nations,  not  the  most 
pagan,  that  we  find  unintelligent  conditions  of  in- 
dustrialism which  lead  to  social  disorder,  and  a  vulgar 
disposition  to  self-assertion  which  makes  for  war. 
History  and  Homicide,  it  has  been  said,  are  in- 
distinguishable terms.  "Man  is  born  free,  and  every- 
where he  is  in  chains." 

This  striking  impotence  of  the  human  race  to  arrive 
at  anything  in  the  nature  of  a  coherent  world-order,  this 
bewildering  incapacity  of  individual  man  to  live  in  love 
and  charity  with  his  neighbour,  justifies  the  presump- 
tion that  divine  help,  if  ever  given,  that  an  Incarnation 
of  the  Divine  Will,  if  ever  vouchsafed,  must  surely  have 
had  for  its  chief  mercy  the  teaching  of  a  science  of  life — 
a  way  of  existence  which  would  bring  the  feet  of  un- 
happy man  out  of  chaos,  and  finally  make  it  possible  for 
the  human  race  to  live  inteUigently,  and  so,  beautifully. 

Now  if  this  indeed  were  the  purpose  of  the  Incarna- 
tion, we  may  be  pardoned  for  thinking  that  the  Church, 
which  has  been  the  cause  of  so  much  tyranny  and 
bloodshed  in  the  past,  and  which  even  now  so  wilHngly 
lends  itself  to  bitter  animosities  and  warlike  controver- 


INTRODUCTION  xvii 

sies,  has  missed  the  whole  secret  of  its  first  and  greatest 
dogma.  ^ 

Therefore  in  studying  the  modern  mind  of  Christian- 
ity, persuaded  that  its  mission  is  to  teach  mankind  a 
lesson  of  quite  sublime  importance,  we  may  possibly 
arrive  in  our  conclusion  at  a  unifying  principle  which 
will  at  least  help  the  Church  to  turn  its  moral  earnest- 
ness, its  manifold  self-sacrifice,  and  its  great  but  con- 
flicting energies,  in  this  one  direction  which  is  its  own 
supremest  end,  namely,  the  interpretation  of  human 
life  in  terms  of  spiritual  reality. 

To  those  who  distrust  reason  and  hold  fast  rather 
fearfully  to  the  moorings  of  tradition,  I  would  ven- 
ture to  say,  first,  that  perilous  times  are  most  perilous 
to  error,  and,  secondly,  in  the  words  of  Dr.  Kirsopp 
Lake,  "After  all,  Faith  is  not  belief  in  spite  of 
evidence,  but  life  in  scorn  of  consequence — a  courageous 
trust  in  the  great  purpose  of  all  things  and  pressing 
forward  to  finish  the  work  which  is  in  sight,  whatever 
the  price  may  be." 

'  I  asked  a  certain  Dean  the  other  day  whether  the  old  controversy 
between  High  Church  and  Low  Church  still  obtained  in  his  diocese. 
"Oh,  dear,  no!"  he  replied;  "High  and  Low  are  now  united  to  fight 
Modernists." 


"The  distinction  between  right  and 
wrong  disappears  when  conscience 
dies,  and  that  between  fact  and 
fiction  when  reason  is  neglected. 
The  one  is  the  danger  which  besets 
clever  politicians,  the  other  the  neme- 
sis which  waits  on  popular  preachers.'* 
— Kirsopp  Lake. 


xiz 


CONTENTS 


Foreword            ..... 
Introduction  to  the  American  Edition 
Introduction 

CHAPTER 

I. — Bishop  Gore 
II. — Dean  Inge 
III. — Father  Knox    . 
IV.— Dr.  L.  p.  Jacks 
V. — Bishop  Hensley  Henson 
VI. — Miss  Maude  Royden 
VII.— Canon  E.  W.  Barnes 
VIII. — General  Bramwell  Booth 
IX.— Dr.  W.  E.  Orchard  . 
X. — Bishop  Temple 
XL— Principal  W.  B.  Selbie 
XII. — Archbishop  Randall  Davidson 
XIII. — Conclusion 


PAGE 

•  •  • 

HI 

xi 

XV 

I 

21 

47 

67 

87 
103 

121 

139 

155 
169 

191 

203 
216 


XXI 


BISHOP  GORE 

Gore,  Rt.  Rev.  Charles,  M.A.,  D.D.,  and  Hon.  D.C.L.,  Oxford; 
Hon.  D.D.,  Edinburgh  and  Durham;  Hon.  LL.D.,  Cambridge  and 
Birmingham;  b.  1853;  s.  of  Hon.  Charles  Alexander  Gore  and  d.  of  4th 
Earl  of  Bes&borough,  widow  of  Earl  of  Kerry,  Educ. :  Harrow,  Balliol 
College,  Oxford  (Scholar).  Fellow  Trinity  College,  Oxford,  1875-95; 
Vice-Principal  of  Cuddesdon  College,  1 880-83;  Librarian  of  Pusey 
Library,  Oxford,  1884-93;  Vicar  of  Radley,  1893-94;  Canon  of  West- 
minster,  1894-1902;  Hon.  Chaplain  to  the  Queen,  1898-1900;  Chaplain 
in  Ordinary  to  the  Queen,  1900-1901 ;  Chaplain  in  Ordinary  to  the  King, 
1901;  Editor  of  Lux  Mundi;  Bishop  of  Worcester,  1902-4;  Bishop  of 
Birmingham,  1905-11;  Bishop  of  Oxford,  1911-1919- 


PAINTED  WINDOWS 

CHAPTER  I 

BISHOP  GORE 

He  is  in  truth,  in  the  power,  in  the  hands,  of  another,  of 
another  will  .  .  .  attracted,  corrected,  guided,  rewarded, 
satiated,  in  a  long  discipline,  that  *'  ascent  of  the  soul  into  the 
intelligible  world.'' — Walter  Pater. 

No  man  occupies  a  more  commanding  position  in 
the  Churches  of  England  than  Dr.  Gore.  I  am 
assured  in  more  than  one  quarter  that  a  vote  on  this 
subject  would  place  him  head  and  shoulders  above 
all  other  religious  teachers  of  our  time.  In  the  region 
of  personal  influence  he  appears  to  be  without  a  rival. 

Such  is  the  quality  of  his  spirit,  that  a  person  so 
different  from  him  both  in  temperament  and  intellect 
as  the  Dean  of  St.  Paul's  has  confessed  that  he  is  "one 
of  the  most  powerful  spiritual  forces  in  our  generation." 

It  is,  I  think,  the  grave  sincerity  of  his  soul  which 
gives  him  this  pre-eminence.  He  is  not  more  eloquent 
than  many  others,  he  is  not  greatly  distinguished 
by  scholarship,  he  is  only  one  in  a  numerous  company  of 
high-minded  men  who  live  devout  and  disinterested 

3 


4  PAINTED  WINDOWS 

lives.  But  no  man  conveys,  both  in  his  writings  and  in 
his  personal  touch,  a  more  telling  sense  of  ghostly  earn- 
estness, a  feeling  that  his  whole  life  is  absorbed  into 
a  Power  which  overshadows  his  presence  and  even 
sounds  in  his  voice,  a  conviction  that  he  has  in  sober 
truth  forsaken  everything  for  the  Kingdom  of  God. 

One  who  knows  him  far  better  than  I  do  said  to 
me  the  other  day,  "Charles  Gore  has  not  aimed  at 
harmonising  his  ideas  with  the  Gospel,  but  of  fusing 
his  whole  spirit  into  the  Divine  Wisdom." 

In  one,  and  only  one,  respect,  this  saHence  of  Dr. 
Gore  may  be  likened  to  the  political  prominence  of  Mr. 
Lloyd  George.  It  is  a  salience  complete,  dominating, 
unapproached,  but  one  which  must  infallibly  diminish 
with  time.  For  it  is,  I  am  compelled  to  think,  the 
salience  of  personality.  History  does  not  often  endorse 
the  more  enthusiastic  verdicts  of  journalism,  and 
personal  magnetism  is  a  force  which  unhappily  melts 
into  air  long  before  its  tradition  comes  down  to 
posterity. ' 

Mr.  Joseph  Chamberlain  was  once  speaking  to  me 
of  the  personaHty  of  Gladstone.  He  related  with 
unusual  fervour  that  the  effect  of  this  personality  was 
incomparable,  a  thing  quite  unique  in  his  experience, 
something  indeed  incommunicable  to  those  who  had  not 
met  the  man;  yet,  checking  himself  of  a  sudden,  and  as 

'  The  genius  of  the  Prime  Minister,  which  makes  so  astonishing  an 
impression  on  the  public,  plainly  lies  in  saving  from  irretrievable  disaster 
at  the  eleventh  hour  the  consequences  of  his  own  acts. 


BISHOP  GORE  5 

it  were  shaking  himself  free  of  a  superstition,  he  added 
resolutely,  "But  I  was  reading  some  of  his  speeches  in 
Hansard  only  the  other  day,  and  upon  my  word  there's 
nothing  in  them ! ' ' 

One  may  well  doubt  the  judgment  of  Mr.  Chamber- 
lain; but  it  remains  very  obviously  true  that  the  per- 
sonal impression  of  Gladstone  was  infinitely  greater 
than  his  ideas.  The  tradition  of  that  almost  marvellous 
impression  still  prevails,  but  solely  among  a  few,  and 
there  it  is  fading.  For  the  majority  of  men  it  is  already 
as  if  Gladstone  had  never  existed. 

We  should  be  wise,  then,  to  examine  the  mind,  and 
only  the  mind,  of  this  remarkable  prelate,  and  to  con- 
cern ourselves  hardly  at  all  with  the  beauty  of  his  life 
or  the  bewitchments  of  his  character ;  for  our  purpose  is 
to  arrive  at  his  value  for  religion,  and  to  study  his 
personality  only  in  so  far  as  it  enables  us  to  understand 
his  life  and  doctrine. 

Dr.  Gore  lives  in  a  small  and  decent  London  house 
which  at  all  points  in  its  equipment  perfectly  expresses 
a  pure  taste  and  a  wholly  unstudied  refinement.  No- 
thing there  offends  the  eye  or  oppresses  the  mind.  It  is 
the  dignified  habitation  of  a  poor  gentleman,  breathing 
a  charm  not  to  be  found  in  the  house  of  a  rich  parvenu. 
He  has  avoided  without  effort  the  conscious  artistry  of 
Chelsea  and  the  indifference  to  art  of  the  unaesthetic 
vulgarian.  As  to  the  manner  of  his  life,  it  is  reduced 
to  an  extreme  of  simplicity,  but  his  asceticism  is  not 
made  the  excuse  for  domestic  carelessness.     A  sense  of 


6  PAINTED  WINDOWS 

order  distinguishes  this  small  interior,  which  is  as  quiet 
as  a  monk's  cell,  but  restful  and  gracious,  as  though 
continually  overlooked  by  a  woman's  providence. 

Here  Dr.  Gore  reads  theology  and  the  newspaper, 
receives  and  embraces  some  of  his  numerous  disciples, 
discusses  socialism  with  men  like  Mr.  Tawney,  church 
government  with  men  like  Bishop  Temple,  writes  his 
books  and  sermons,  and  on  a  cold  day,  seated  on  a 
cushion  with  his  feet  in  the  fender  and  his  hands 
stretched  over  a  timorous  fire,  revolves  the  many 
problems  which  beset  his  peace  of  mind.  * 

Somewhere,  in  speaking  of  the  Church's  attitude 
towards  rich  and  poor,  he  has  confessed  to  carrying 
about  with  him  "a  permanently  troubled  conscience." 
The  phrase  lives  in  his  face.  It  is  not  the  face  of  a  man 
who  is  at  peace  with  himself.  If  he  has  peace  of  mind, 
it  is  a  Peace  of  Versailles. 

One  cannot  look  at  that  tall  lean  figure  in  its  purple 
cassock,  with  the  stooping  head,  the  somewhat  choleric 
face,  the  low  forehead  deeply  scored  with  anxiety,  the 
prominent  light-coloured  and  glassy  eyes  staring  with 
perplexity  under  bushy  brows,  which  are  as  carefully 
combed  as  the  hair  of  his  head,  the  large  obstinate  nose 
with  its  challenging  tilt  and  wide  war-breathing  nostrils, 
the  broad  white  moustache  and  sudden  pointed  beard 
sloping  inward ;  nor  can  one  listen  to  the  deep,  tired,  and 

'  Concerning  modernising  tendencies,  Father  Ronald  Knox  says,  "I 
went  to  a  meeting  about  it  in  Margaret  Street,  where  crises  in  the 
Church  are  invested  with  a  peculiar  atmosphere  of  delicious  trepi- 
dation." 


BISHOP  GORE  7 

ghostly  voice  slowly  uttering  the  laborious  ideas  of  his 
troubled  mind  with  the  somewhat  painful  pronunciation 
of  the  elocutionist  (he  makes  chapell  of  Chapel);  nor 
mark  his  languorous  movements  and  the  slow  swaying 
action  of  the  attenuated  body;  one  cannot  notice  all 
this  without  feeling  that  in  spite  of  his  great  courage  and 
his  iron  tenacity  of  purpose,  he  is  a  little  weary  of  the 
battle,  and  sometimes  even  perhaps  conscious  of  a  check 
for  the  cause  which  is  far  dearer  to  him  than  his  own  life. 

One  thinks  of  him  as  a  soul  under  a  cloud.  He 
gives  one  no  feeling  of  radiance,  no  sense  of  a  living 
serenity.  What  serenity  he  possesses  at  the  centre 
of  his  being  does  not  shine  in  his  face  nor  sound  in 
his  voice.  He  has  the  look  of  one  whose  head  has 
long  been  thrust  out  of  a  window  gloomily  expecting 
an  accident  to  happen  at  the  street  corner.  FitzGerald 
once  admirably  described  the  face  of  Carlyle  as  wearing 
"a  crucified  expression."  No  such  bitterness  of  pain 
and  defeat  shows  in  the  face  of  Dr.  Gore.  But  his  look 
is  the  look  of  one  who  has  not  conquered  and  who 
expects  further,  perhaps  greater  disaster. 

He  has  told  us  that  "a  man  must  be  strong  at  the 
centre  before  he  can  be  free  at  the  circumference 
of  his  being,"  and  in  support  of  this  doctrine  he  quotes 
the  words  of  Jesus,  "  It  is  better  to  enter  into  life  halt  or 
maimed  rather  than  having  two  hands  or  two  feet  to  go 
into  hell."  Has  he  reached  strength  at  the  centre,  one 
wonders,  by  doing  violence  to  any  part  of  his  moral 
being?     Is  his  strength  not  the  strength  of  the  whole 


8  PAINTED  WINDOWS 

man  but  the  strength  only  of  his  will,  a  forced  strength  to 
which  his  reason  has  not  greatly  contributed  and  into 
which  his  affections  have  not  entirely  entered  ?  Is  this, 
one  asks,  the  reason  of  that  look  in  his  face,  the  look  of 
bafflement,  of  perplexity,  of  a  permanently  troubled 
conscience,  of  a  divided  self,  a  self  that  is  both  maimed 
and  halt? 

How  is  it,  we  ask  ourselves,  that  a  man  who  makes 
so  profound  an  impression  on  those  who  know  him, 
and  who  commands  as  no  other  teacher  of  his  time 
the  affectionate  veneration  of  the  Christian  world, 
and  who  has  placed  himself  whole-heartedly  in  political 
alliance  with  the  militant  forces  of  victorious  Labour, 
exercises  so  little  influence  in  the  moral  life  of  the 
nation?  How  is  it  that  he  suggests  to  us  no  feeling  of 
the  relation  of  triumphant  leadership,  but  rather  the 
spirit  of  Napoleon  on  the  retreat  from  Moscow? 

We  learn  from  his  teaching  that  no  one  can  be  a 
Christian  without  "a  tremendous  act  of  choice,"  that 
Christ  proclaimed  His  standard  with  "tremendous 
severity  of  claim,"  that  "it  is  very  hard  to  be  a  good 
Christian,"  and  that  we  must  surely,  as  St.  Peter  says, 
"pass  the  time  of  our  sojourning  here  in  fear."  All 
of  which  suggests  to  us  that  the  Bishop  has  not  entered 
into  life  whole,  even  perhaps  that  sometimes  he  looks 
back  over  his  shoulder  with  a  spasm  of  horror  at  the 
hell  from  which  he  has  escaped  only  by  the  sacrifice  of 
his  rational  integrity. 

Let  us  recall  the  main  events  of  his  history. 


BISHOP  GORE  9 

He  was  educated  at  Harrow  and  Balliol,  and  exercised 
a  remarkable  spiritual  influence  at  Oxford,  where  he 
remained,  first  as  Vice-Principal  of  Cuddesdon  College 
and  then  as  Librarian  of  Pusey  House,  till  he  was  forty 
years  of  age. 

During  these  years  he  edited  the  book  called  Lux 
Mundi  in  which  he  abandoned  the  dogma  of  verbal 
inspiration  and  accepted  the  theory  that  the  human 
knowledge  of  Christ  was  limited.  This  book  distressed 
a  number  of  timid  people,  but  extended  the  influence  of 
Dr.  Gore  to  men  of  science,  such  as  Romanes,  as  well  as 
to  a  much  larger  number  of  thoughtful  undergraduates. 

For  a  year  he  was  Vicar  of  Radley,  and  then  came  to 
London  as  a  Canon  of  Westminster,  immediately  at- 
tracting enormous  congregations  to  hear  him  preach, 
his  sermons  being  distinguished  by  a  most  singular 
simplicity,  a  profound  piety,  and  above  all  by  a  deep 
honesty  of  conviction  which  few  who  heard  him  could 
withstand.  Weller,  the  Dean's  verger  at  the  Abbey, 
has  many  stories  to  tell  of  the  long  queues  at  West- 
minster which  in  those  days  were  one  of  the  sights  of 
London.  The  Abbey  has  never  since  recovered  its 
place  as  a  centre  of  Christian  teaching. 

Up  to  this  time  Dr.  Gore's  sympathy  for  the  Oxford 
Movement  was  merely  the  background  of  a  life  devoted 
to  the  mystical  element  and  the  moral  implications  of 
the  Christian  religion.  He  was  known  as  a  High 
Churchman;  he  was  felt  to  be  a  saint;  his  modernism 
was  almost  forgotten. 


10  PAINTED  WINDOWS 

It  was  not  long  before  his  tentative  movement 
towards  modernism  ended  in  a  profession  of  Catholic 
principles  which  allied  him  with  forces  definitely 
and  sometimes  angrily  ranged  against  the  Higher 
Criticism.  He  became  a  Bishop.  Almost  at  once 
the  caressing  fingers  of  the  saint  became  the  heavy 
hand  of  the  dogmatist.  He  who  had  frightened 
Liddon  by  his  tremulous  adventure  towards  the  mere 
fringe  of  modernism  became  the  declared  enemy,  the 
implacable  foe,  of  the  least  of  his  clergy  who  questioned 
even  the  most  questionable  clauses  of  the  creeds.  He 
demanded  of  them  all  a  categorical  assent  to  the  literal 
truth  of  the  miraculous,  in  exactly  the  same  sense  in 
which  physical  facts  are  true.  Every  word  of  the 
creeds  had  to  be  uttered  ex  animo.  "  It  is  very  hard  to 
be  a  good  Christian."  Yes;  but  did  Dr.  Gore  make  it 
harder  than  it  need  be?  There  was  something  not 
very  unlike  a  heresy  hunt  in  the  diocese  over  which  the 
editor  of  Lux  Mundi  ruled  with  a  rod  of  iron. 

I  remember  once  speaking  to  Dr.  Winnington 
Ingram,  Bishop  of  London,  about  the  Virgin  Birth. 
He  told  me  that  he  had  consulted  Charles  Gore  on 
this  matter,  and  that  he  agreed  with  Charles  Gore's 
ruling  that  if  belief  in  that  miracle  were  abandoned 
Christianity  would  perish.  Such  is  the  fate  of  those 
who  put  their  faith  in  dogmas,  and  plant  their  feet  on 
the  sands  of  tradition. 

Dr.  Gore's  life  as  a  Bishop,  first  of  Worcester,  then  of 
Birmingham,  and  finally  of  Oxford,  was  disappointing 


BISHOP  GORE  II 

to  many  of  his  admirers,  and  perhaps  to  himself.  He 
did  well  to  retire.  But  unfortunately  this  retirement 
was  not  consecrated  to  those  exercises  which  made  him 
so  impressive  and  so  powerful  an  influence  in  the  early 
years  of  his  ministry.  He  set  himself  to  be,  not  an 
exponent  of  the  Faith,  but  the  defender  of  a  particular 
aspect  of  that  Faith. 

Here,  I  think,  is  to  be  found  the  answer  to  our  ques- 
tion concerning  the  loss  of  Dr.  Gore's  influence  in  the 
national  life.  From  the  day  of  the  great  sermons  in 
Westminster  Abbey  that  wonderful  influence  has 
diminished,  and  he  is  now  in  the  unhappy  position  of  a 
party  leader  whose  followers  begin  to  question  his  wis- 
dom.    Organisation  has  destroyed  him. 

Dr.  Gore,  in  my  judgment,  has  achieved  strength 
at  the  centre  of  his  being  only  at  the  terrible  cost 
of  cutting  off,  or  at  any  rate  of  maiming,  his  own  natural 
temperament.  Marked  out  by  nature  for  the  life  of 
mysticism,  he  has  entered  maimed  and  halt  into  the 
life  of  the  controversialist.  With  the  richest  of  spiritual 
gifts,  which  demand  quiet  and  a  profound  peace  for 
their  development,  he  has  thrown  himself  into  the  arena 
of  theological  disputation,  where  force  of  intellect 
rather  than  beauty  of  character  is  the  first  requirement 
of  victory.  Instead  of  drawing  all  men  to  the  sweet 
reasonableness  of  the  Christian  life,  he  has  floundered 
in  the  obscurities  of  a  sect  and  hidden  his  light  under  the 
bushel  of  a  mouldering  solecism — "the  tradition  of 
Western  Catholicism."    It  is  a  tragedy.    Posterity^ 


12  PAINTED  WINDOWS 

I  think,  will  regretfully  number  him  among  bigots, 
lamenting  that  one  who  was  so  clearly 

.  .  ,  born  for  the  universe,  narrow'd  his  mind, 
And  to  party  gave  up  what  was  meant  for  mankind. 

For,  unhappily,  this  party  in  the  Church  to  which, 
as  Dean  Inge  well  puts  it.  Dr.  Gore  "consents  to 
belong,"  and  for  which  he  has  made  such  manifold 
sacrifices,  and  by  which  he  is  not  always  so  loyally 
followed  as  he  deserves  to  be,  is  of  all  parties  in  the 
Church  that  which  least  harmonises  with  English 
temperament,  and  is  least  likely  to  endure  the  intellec- 
tual onslaughts  of  the  immediate  future. 

It  is  the  Catholic  Party,  the  spendthrift  heir  of  the 
Tractarians,  which,  with  little  of  the  intellectual 
force  that  gave  so  signal  a  power  to  the  Oxford  Move- 
ment, endeavours  to  make  up  for  that  sad  if  not  fatal 
deficiency  by  an  almost  inexhaustible  credulity,  a 
marked  ability  in  superstitious  ceremonial,  a  not  very 
modest  assertion  of  the  claims  of  sacerdotalism,  a 
mocking  contempt  for  preaching,  and  a  devotion  to  the 
duties  of  the  parish  priest  which  has  never  been  excelled 
in  the  history  of  the  English  Church. 

Bishop  Gore,  very  obviously,  is  a  better  man  than  his 
party.  He  is  a  gentleman  in  every  fibre  of  his  being, 
and  to  a  gentleman  all  extravagance  is  distasteful,  all 
disloyalty  is  impossible.  He  is,  indeed,  a  survival  from 
the  great  and  orderly  Oxford  Movement  trying  to  keep 
his  feet  in  the  swaying  midst  of  a  revolutionary  mob,  a 


BISHOP  GORE  13 

Kerensky    attempting    to    withstand    the    forces    of 
Bolshevism. 

There  is  little  question,  I  think,  that  when  his 
influence  is  removed,  an  influence  which  becomes  with 
every  year  something  of  a  superstition,  something  of  an 
irritation,  to  the  younger  generation  of  Anglo-Catholics 
— not  many  of  whom  are  scholars  and  few  gentlemen — 
the  party  which  he  has  served  so  loyally,  and  with  so 
much  distinction,  so  much  temperance,  albeit  so 
disastrously  for  his  own  influence  in  the  world,  will 
perish  on  the  far  boundaries  of  an  extremism  altogether 
foreign  to  our  English  nativity. 

For  to  many  of  those  who  profess  to  follow  him 
he  is  already  a  hesitating  and  too  cautious  leader, 
and  they  fret  under  his  coldness  towards  the  millinery 
of  the  altar,  and  writhe  under  his  refusal  to  accept 
the  strange  miracle  of  Transubstantiation — a  miracle 
which,  he  has  explained,  I  understand,  demands  a 
reversal  of  itself  to  account  for  the  change  which  takes 
place  in  digestion.  If  they  were  rid  of  his  restraining 
hand,  if  they  felt  they  could  trust  themselves  without 
his  intellectual  championship,  these  Bolshevists  of 
sacerdotalism,  these  enthusiasts  for  the  tyranny  of  an 
absolute  Authority,  these  episcopalian  asserters  of  the 
Apostolical  Succession  who  delight  in  flouting  and 
defying  and  insulting  their  bishops,  would  soon  lose  in 
the  follies  of  excess  the  last  vestiges  of  EngHsh  respect 
for  the  once  glorious  and  honourable  Oxford  Movement. 

If  any  man  think  that  I  bear  too  hardly  on  these 


14  PAINTED  WINDOWS 

very  positive  protagonists  of  Latin  Christianity,  let 
him  read  the  Anglican  chapters  in  A  Spiritual  ^neid. 
Father  Knox  was  once  a  member  of  this  party  and 
something  of  a  disciple  of  Dr.  Gore,  who,  however, 
always  regretted  his  "  mediaeval "  theology. 

A  member  of  this  party,  marching  indeed  at  its 
head  and  its  one  voice  in  these  degenerate  days  to 
which  men  of  intelligence  pay  the  smallest  attention, 
Bishop  Gore  has  lost  the  great  influence  he  once  exer- 
cised, or  began  to  exercise,  on  the  national  life,  a  moral 
and  spiritual  influence  which  might  at  this  time  have 
been  well-nigh  supreme  if  the  main  body  of  the  nation 
had  not  unfortunately  lost  its  interest  for  the  man  in 
its  contempt  for,  or  rather  its  indifference  to,  the  party 
to  which  he  consents  to  belong. 

But  for  the  singular  beauty  of  his  spiritual  life,  one 
would  be  tempted  to  set  him  up  as  an  example  of 
Coleridge's  grave  warning,  ' '  He,  who  begins  by  loving 
Christianity  better  than  Truth,  will  proceed  by  loving 
his  own  Sect  or  Church  better  than  Christianity,  and 
end  in  loving  himself  better  than  all." 

I  find  him  in  these  late  days  no  nearer  to  Rome, 
not  an  inch  nearer,  than  in  the  days  of  his  early  man- 
hood, but  absolutely  convinced  that  Christ  founded  a 
Church  and  instituted  the  two  chief  sacraments.  He 
will  sacrifice  nothing  in  this  respect.  His  whole  mind, 
which  is  a  very  different  thing  from  his  whole  spirit, 
leans  towards  authority,  order,  and  coherence.  He 
must  have  an  organised  society  of  believers,  believers 


BISHOP  GORE  15 

in  the  creeds,  and  he  must  have  an  absolute  obedience 
to  authority  among  these  beHevers. 

But  he  is  a  Uttle  shaken  and  very  much  alarmed 
by  the  march  of  modernism.  "When  people  run  up 
to  you  in  the  street,"  he  said  recently,  and  the  phrase 
suggests  panic,  "and  say,  'Oh!  what  are  we  to  do?'  I 
have  got  no  short  or  easy  answer  at  all."  A  large, 
important,  and  learned  body  of  men  in  the  Church,  he 
says,  hold  views  which  are  "directly  subversive  of  the 
foundations  of  the  creeds. ' '  He  calls  this  state  of  things 
evidence  of  "an  extraordinary  collapse  of  discipHne." 
But  that  is  not  all.  He  is  alarmed ;  he  is  not  content 
to  trust  the  future  of  the  Church  to  authority  alone. 
* '  What  are  we  to  do  ? "     He  repHes : 

' '  First,  we  must  not  be  content  to  appeal  to  authority. 
We  must  teach,  fully  teach,  re-teach  the  truth  on 
grounds  of  Scripture,  reason,  history,  everything,  so 
that  we  may  have  a  party,  a  body  which  knows  not  only 
that  it  has  got  authority,  but  that  it  has  got  the  truth 
and  reason  on  its  side." 

The  claim  is  obviously  courageous,  the  claim  of  a 
brave  and  noble  man,  but  one  wonders.  Can  it  be 
made  good?  It  is  a  long  time  since  evolution  saw 
Athanasius  laid  in  the  grave,  a  long  time  since  the 
Inquisition  pronounced  the  opinions  of  Galileo  to  be 
heretical  and  therefore  false.  "  It  is  very  hard  to  be  a 
good  Christian. ' '  Did  Athanasius  make  it  easier  ?  Did 
the  Inquisition  which  condemned  Galileo  make  it  easier 
still? 


i6  PAINTED  WINDOWS 

Dr.  Gore  thinks  that  the  supreme  mistake  of 
Christianity  was  placing  itself  under  the  protection 
and  patronage  of  national  governments.  It  should 
never  have  become  nationalised.  Its  greatest  and 
most  necessitous  demand  was  to  stand  apart  from 
anything  in  the  nature  of  racialism. 

He  mourns  over  an  incoherent  humanity ;  he  seeks  for 
unifying  principles.  The  religion  of  an  Incarnation 
must  have  a  message  for  the  world,  a  message  for  the 
whole  world,  for  all  mankind.  Surely,  surely.  But 
unifying  principles  are  not  popular  in  the  churches.  It 
is  the  laity  which  objects  to  a  coherent  Gospel. 

He  sighs  for  a  spiritualised  Labour  Party.  He 
shrinks  from  the  thought  of  a  revolution,  but  does 
not  believe  that  the  present  industrial  system  can 
be  Christianised.  There  must  be  a  fundamental 
change.  Christianity  is  intensely  personal,  but  its 
individualism  is  of  the  spirit,  the  individualism  of 
unselfishness.  He  laughs  grimly,  in  a  low  and  rumbling 
fashion,  on  hearing  that  Communism  is  losing  its 
influence  in  the  north  of  England.  "I  can  quite 
imagine  that ;  the  last  thing  an  Englishman  will  part 
with  is  his  property." 

Laughter,  if  it  can  be  called  laughter,  is  rare  on 
his  lips,  and  is  reserved  in  general  for  opinions  which 
are  in  antagonism  to  his  own.  He  laughs  in  this 
way  at  the  makeshift  compromises  of  statesmen  and 
theologians  and  economists  saying  that  what  those 
men  hate  more  than  anything  else  is  a  fixed  principle. 


BISHOP  GORE  17 

He  quotes  with  a  sardonic  pleasure  the  capital  saying 
that  a  certain  statesman's  idea  of  a  settled  policy  based 
on  fixed  moral  principles  is  a  policy  which  will  last 
from  breakfast-time  to  luncheon — he  repeats  the  last 
words  "from  breakfast-time  to  luncheon,"  with  a  deep 
relish,  an  indrawing  of  the  breath,  a  flash  of  Hght  in  the 
glassy  eyes. 

He  remains  impenitent  concerning  his  first  instinct 
as  to  England's  duty  at  the  violation  of  Belgium's 
neutrahty.  We  were  justified  in  fighting;  we  could 
do  no  other;  it  was  a  stern  duty  laid  upon  us  by  the 
Providence  which  overrules  the  foolishness  of  man. 
But  he  is  insistent  that  we  can  justify  our  fiery  passion 
in  War  only  by  an  equal  passion  in  the  higher  cause  of 
Peace — no,  not  an  equal  passion,  a  far  greater  passion. 

We  lost  at  Versailles  our  greatest  opportunity  for 
that  divine  justification.  We  showed  no  fervour 
for  peace.  There  was  no  passion  in  us;  nothing  but 
scepticism,  incredulity,  and  the  base  appetite  for 
revenge.  We  might  have  led  the  world  into  a  new 
epoch  if  at  that  moment  we  had  laid  down  our  sword, 
taken  up  our  cross,  and  followed  the  Prince  of  Peace. 
But  we  were  cold,  cold.  We  had  no  ideaUsm.  We 
were  poor  sceptics  trusting  to  economics — the  econo- 
mics of  a  base  materialism. 

But  though  he  broods  over  the  sorrows  and  sufferings 
of  mankind,  and  views  with  an  unutterable  grief  the 
dismemberment  of  Christendom,  he  refuses  to  style 
himself  a  pessimist.    There  is  much  good  in  the  world; 


i8  PAINTED  WINDOWS 

he  is  continually  being  astonished  by  the  goodness  of 
individuals ;  he  cannot  bring  himself  to  despair  of  man- 
kind. Ah,  if  he  had  only  kept  himself  in  that 
atmosphere!  But  "it  is  very  hard  to  be  a  good 
Christian." 

As  for  theology,  as  for  modernism,  people  are  not 
bothered,  he  says,  by  a  supposed  conflict  between 
ReHgion  and  Science.  What  they  want  is  a  message. 
The  CathoHc  Church  must  formulate  a  poHcy,  must 
become  intelligent,  coherent. 

He  has  small  faith  in  meetings,  pronouncing  the 
word  with  an  amused  disdain,  nor  does  he  attach 
great  importance  to  preaching,  convinced  that  no 
Englishman  can  preach:  "Even  Roman  CathoHcs 
can't  preach  in  England."  As  for  those  chapels  to 
which  people  go  to  hear  a  popular  preacher,  he  calls 
them  "preaching  shops,"  and  speaks  with  pity  of 
those  who  occupy  their  pulpits:  "That  must  be  a 
dreadful  life — dreadful,  oh,  quite  dreadful!"  Yet  he 
has  a  lasting  admiration  for  the  sermons  of  Charles 
Spurgeon.  As  to  Jeremy  Taylor,  "I  confess  that  all 
that  turgid  rhetoric  wearies  me." 

He  does  not  think  the  Oxford  Movement  has  spent 
itself.  On  the  contrary,  the  majority  of  the  young  men 
who  present  themselves  for  ordination  are  very  largely 
inspired  by  the  spirit  of  that  Movement.  All  the  same, 
he  perceives  a  danger  in  formahsm,  a  resting  in  symbol- 
ism for  its  own  sake.  In  its  genesis,  the  Oxford  Move- 
ment threw  up  great  men,  very  great  men,  men  of 


BISHOP  GORE  19 

considerable  intellectual  power  and  a  most  profound 
spirituality;  it  is  not  to  be  expected,  perhaps,  that  such 
giants  should  appear  again,  and  in  their  absence  lesser 
men  may  possibly  mistake  the  symbol  for  the  thing 
symbolised,  and  so  fall  into  the  error  of  formalism. 
That  is  a  danger  to  be  watched  and  guarded  against. 
But  the  Movement  will  continue,  and  it  will  not  reach 
its  fulfilment  until  under  its  pressure  the  Church  has 
arrived  at  unity  and  formulated  a  policy  intelligent 
and  coherent. 

So  this  great  spirit,  who  might  have  given  to  man- 
kind a  book  worthy  to  stand  beside  the  Imitation,  and 
given  to  England  a  new  enthusiasm  for  the  moral 
principles  of  Christianity,  nurses  a  mechanistic  dream 
and  cherishes  the  hope  that  his  Party  is  the  Aaron's  rod 
of  all  the  Churches.  Many  would  have  followed  him 
if  he  had  been  content  to  say  only,  "Do  as  I  do,"  but  he 
descended  into  the  dust  of  controversy,  and  bade  us 
think  as  he  thinks.  Nevertheless,  in  spite  of  this  fatal 
mistake  he  remains  the  greatest  spiritual  force  among 
the  Churches  of  England,  and  his  books  of  devotion 
will  be  read  long  after  his  works  of  controversy  have 
fallen  into  that  coldest  of  all  oblivions,  the  oblivion  of 
inadequate  theologies. 


DEAN  INGE 

Inge,  Very  Rev.  William  Ralph,  D.D.,  C.V.O.,  1918;  Dean  of  St. 
Paul's  since  191 1 ;  b.  Crayke,  Yorkshire,  6th  June,  i860;  s.  of  late  Rev. 
William  Inge,  D.D.,  Provost  of  Worcester  College,  Oxford  and  Mary,  d.  of 
Ven.  Edward  Churton,  Archdeacon  of  Cleveland;  m.  1905,  Mary 
Catharine,  d.  Ven.  H.  M.  Spooner,  Archdeacon  of  Maidstone,  and  g.  d.  of 
Bishop  Harvey  Goodwin;  three  s.  two  d.  Educ. :  Eton,  King's  College, 
Cambridge,  Bell  Scholar  and  Porson  Prizeman,  1880;  Porson  Scholar, 
1 88 1;  Craven  Scholar  and  Browne  Medallist,  1882;  Senior  Chancellor's 
Medallist,  1883;  ist  Class  Classics,  1882  and  1883;  Hare  Prizeman, 
1885;  Assistant  Master  at  Eton,  1884-88;  Fellow  of  King's,  1886-88; 
Fellow  and  Tutor  of  Hertford  College,  Oxford,  1889-1904;  Select 
Preacher  at  Oxford,  1893-95,  1903-5,  1920-21 ;  Cambridge,  1901,  1906, 
1910,  1912,  1913,  1920;  Bampton  Lecturer,  1899;  Hon.  D.D.,  Aberdeen, 
1905;  Paddock  Lecturer,  New  York,  1906;  Vicar  of  All  Saints'  Ennis- 
more  Gardens,  S.  W.,  1905-7;  Lady  Margaret  Professor  of  Divinity 
and  Fellow  of  Jesus  College,  Cambridge,  1907-1 1 ;  Hon.  Fellow  of  Jesus 
College,  Cambridge,  and  of  Hertford  College,  Oxford;  Academic  Com- 
mittee Royal  Soc.  of  Literature;  Gifford  Lecturer,  St.  Andrews,  19 17-18; 
Romanes  and  Hibbert  Lecturer,  1920;  Hon.  D.Litt.,  Durham,  1920. 


DEAN    INGE 


CHAPTER  II 
DEAN   INGE 

Some  day,  when  I've  quite  made  up  my  mind  what  to  fight 
for,  or  whom  to  fight,  I  shall  do  well  enough,  if  I  live,  but  I 
haven't  made  up  my  mind  what  to  fight  for — whether,  for 
instance,  people  ought  to  live  in  Swiss  cottages  and  sit  on  three- 
legged  or  one-legged  stools;  whether  people  ought  to  dress  well  or 
ill;  whether  ladies  ought  to  tie  their  hair  in  beautiful  knots; 
whether  Commerce  or  Business  of  any  kind  be  an  invention  of 
the  Devil  or  not;  whether  Art  is  a  Crime  or  only  an  Absurdity; 
whether  Clergymen  ought  to  be  multiplied,  or  exterminated  by 
arsenic,  like  ra^s;  whether  in  general  we  are  getting  on,  and  if 
so  where  we  are  going  to;  whether  it's  worth  while  to  ascertain 
any  of  these  things;  whether  one's  tongue  was  ever  made  to  talk 
with  or  only  to  taste  with. — John  Ruskin. 

When  our  day  is  done,  and  men  look  back  to  the 
shadows  we  have  left  behind  us,  and  there  is  no  longer 
any  spell  of  personal  magnetism  to  delude  right  judg- 
ment, I  think  that  the  figure  of  Dean  Inge  may  emerge 
from  the  dim  and  too  crowded  tapestry  of  our  period 
with  something  of  the  force,  richness,  and  abiding 
strength  which  gives  Dr.  Johnson  his  great  place  among 
authentic  Englishmen. 

His  true  setting  is  the  Deanery  of  St.  Paul's,  that 
frowning  and  melancholy  house  in  a  backwater  of 

23 


24  PAINTED  WINDOWS 

London's  jarring  tide,  where  the  dust  collects,  and 
sunlight  has  a  struggle  to  make  two  ends  meet,  and 
cold  penetrates  like  a  dagger,  and  fog  hangs  like  a 
pall,  and  the  blight  of  ages  clings  to  stone  and  brick,  to 
window  and  woodwork,  with  an  adhesive  mournfulness 
which  suggests  the  hatchment  of  Melpomene.  Even 
the  hand  of  Grinling  Gibbons  at  the  porch  does  not 
prevent  one  from  recalling  Crabbe's  memorable  lines: 

Dark  but  not  awful,  dismal  but  yet  mean, 
With  anxious  bustle  moves  the  cumbrous  scene ; 
Presents  no  objects  tender  or  profound, 
But  spreads  its  cold  unmeaning  gloom  around. 

Here  in  the  midst  of  overshadowing  warehouses 
— and  until  he  came  hither  at  the  age  of  fifty-one 
few  people  in  London  had  ever  heard  his  name,  a 
name  which  even  now  is  more  frequently  pronounced 
as  if  it  rhymed  with  cringe,  instead  of  with  sting — here 
the  Dean  of  St.  Paul's,  looking  at  one  moment  like  Don 
Quixote,  at  another  like  a  figure  from  the  pages  of 
Dostoevsky,  and  flitting  almost  noiselessly  about  rooms 
which  would  surely  have  been  filled  for  the  mind  ot 
Dickens  with  ghosts  of  both  sexes  and  of  every  order 
and  degree ;  here  the  great  Dean  faces  the  problems  of 
the  universe,  dwells  much  with  his  own  soul,  and  fights 
the  Seven  Devils  of  Foolishness  in  a  style  which  the 
Church  of  England  has  not  known  since  the  days  of 
Swift. 

In  appearance  he  is  very  tall,  rigid,  long-necked. 


DEAN  INGE  25 

and  extremely  thin,  with  fine  dark  hair  and  a  lean 
grey  clean-shaven  face,  the  heavy -lidded  eyes  of  an 
almost  Asian  deadness,  the  upper  lip  projecting  beyond 
the  lower,  a  drift  of  careless  hair  sticking  boyishly 
forward  from  the  forehead,  the  nose  thin,  the  mouth 
mobile  but  decisive,  the  whole  set  and  colour  of  the  face 
stonelike  and  impassive. 

In  repose  he  looks  as  if  he  had  set  himself  to  stare 
the  Sphinx  out  of  countenance  and  not  yet  had  lost 
heart  in  the  matter.  When  he  smiles,  it  is  as  if  a  mis- 
chievous boy  looked  out  of  an  undertaker's  window ;  but 
the  smile,  so  full  of  wit,  mischief,  and  even  gaiety,  is 
gone  in  an  instant,  quicker  than  I  have  ever  seen  a 
smile  flash  out  of  sight,  and  immediately  the  fine 
scholarly  face  sinks  back  into  somnolent  austerity  which 
for  all  its  aloofness  and  immemorial  calm  suggests,  in 
some  fashion  for  which  I  cannot  account,  a  frozen 
whimsicality. 

Few  public  men,  with  perhaps  the  exception  of 
Samuel  Rogers,  ever  cared  so  little  about  appearance. 
It  is  believed  that  the  Dean  would  be  indistinguishable 
from  a  tramp  but  for  the  constant  admonishment  and 
active  benevolence  of  Mrs.  Inge.  As  it  is,  he  is  some- 
thing more  than  shabby,  and  only  escapes  a  dis- 
reputable appearance  by  the  finest  of  hairs,  resembling, 
as  I  have  suggested,  one  of  those  poor  Russian  noblemen 
whom  Dostoevsky  loved  to  place  in  the  dismal  and  sor- 
did atmosphere  of  a  lodging-house,  there  to  shine  like 
golden  planets  by  the  force  of  their  ideas. 


26  PAINTED  WINDOWS 

But  when  all  this  is  said,  and  it  is  worth  saying, 
I  hope,  if  only  to  make  the  reader  feel  that  he  is  here 
making  the  acquaintance  of  an  ascetic  of  the  intellect, 
a  man  who  cares  most  deeply  for  accurate  thought,  and 
is  absorbed  body,  soul  and  spirit  in  the  contemplation  of 
eternal  values,  still,  for  all  the  gloom  of  his  surroundings 
and  the  deadness  of  his  appearance,  it  is  profoundly 
untrue  to  think  of  the  Dean  as  a  prophet  of  pessimism. 

When  he  speaks  to  one,  in  the  rather  muffled  voice 
of  a  man  troubled  by  deafness,  the  impression  he  makes 
is  by  no  means  an  impression  of  melancholy  or  despair; 
on  the  contrary  it  is  the  impression  of  strength,  power, 
courage,  and  unassailable  allegiance  to  truth.  He  is 
careless  of  appearance  because  he  has  something  far 
better  worth  the  while  of  his  attention ;  he  is  aloof  and 
remote,  monosyllabic  and  sometimes  even  inaccessible, 
because  he  lives  almost  entirely  in  the  spiritual  world, 
seeking  Truth  with  a  steady  perseverance  of  mind  Good- 
ness with  the  full  energy  of  his  heart,  and  Beauty  with 
the  deep  mystical  passion  of  his  soul. 

Nothing  in  the  man  suggests  the  title  of  his  most 
popular  book  Outspoken  Essays — a  somewhat  boastful 
phrase  that  would,  I  think,  have  sHghtly  distressed  a 
critic  Hke  Ste.-Beuve — and  nothing,  except  a  certain 
firm  emphasis  on  the  word  truth,  suggests  in  his  conver- 
sation the  spirit  that  shows  in  the  more  controversial  of 
his  essays.  On  the  contrary,  he  is  in  manner,  bearing, 
and  spirit  a  true  mystic,  a  man  of  silence  and  meditation, 
gentle  when  he  is  not  angered,  modest  when  he  is  not 


DEAN  INGE  27 

challenged  by  a  fool,  humble  in  his  attitude  to  God  if 
not  to  a  foolish  world,  and,  albeit  with  the  awkwardness 
inevitable  in  one  who  lives  so  habitually  with  his  own 
thoughts  and  his  own  silence,  anxious  to  be  polite. 

"I  do  not  like  being  unpleasant,"  he  said  to  me  on  one 
occasion,  "but  if  no  one  else  will,  and  the  time  requires 
it " 

It  is  a  habit  with  him  to  leave  a  sentence  unfinished 
which  is  sufficiently  clear  soon  after  the  start. 

In  what  way  is  he  unpleasant?  and  what  are  those 
movements  of  the  time  which  call  in  his  judgment  for 
unpleasantness  ? 

Of  Bergson  he  said  to  me,  "I  hope  he  is  still  think- 
ing," and  when  I  questioned  him  he  replied  that 
Bergson's  teaching  up  to  this  moment  "suggests  that 
anything  may  happen." 

Here  you  may  see  one  of  the  main  movements  of  our 
day  which  call,  in  the  Dean's  judgment  for  unpleasant- 
ness— the  unpleasantness  of  telling  people  not  to  make 
fools  of  themselves.  Humanity  must  not  go  over  in  a 
body  to  Mr.  Micawber. 

Anything  may  happen  ?  No !  We  are  not  characters 
in  a  fairy  tale,  but  men  of  reason,  inhabiting  a  world 
which  reveals  to  us  at  every  point  of  our  investigation 
one  certain  and  unalterable  fact — an  unbroken  uniform- 
ity of  natural  law.  We  must  not  dream ;  we  must  act, 
and,  before  we  act,  we  must  think.  Human  nature 
does  not  change  very  greatly.  Bergson  is  apt  to 
encourage  easy  optimism,  to  leave  the  door  open  for 


28  PAINTED  WINDOWS 

credulity,  superstition,  idle  expectation;  and  he  is 
disposed  to  set  instinct  above  reason,  "a  very  dangerous 
doctrine,  at  any  rate  for  this  generation." 

What  is  wrong  with  this  generation  ?  It  is  a  gener- 
ation that  refuses  to  accept  the  rule  and  discipline  of 
reason,  which  thinks  it  can  reach  millennium  by  a  short 
cut,  or  jump  to  the  moon  in  an  excess  of  emotional 
fervour.  It  is  a  generation  which  becomes  a  crowd, 
and  "individuals  are  occasionally  guided  by  reason, 
crowds  never. "  It  is  a  generation  which  lives  by  catch- 
words, which  plays  tricks,  which  attempts  to  cut  knots, 
which  counts  heads. 

What  is  wrong  with  this  generation  ?  Public  opinion 
is  "a  vulgar,  impertinent,  anonymous  tyrant  who 
deliberately  makes  life  unpleasant  for  anyone  who  is  not 
content  to  be  the  average  man."  Democracy  means 
"a  victory  of  sentiment  over  reason  " ;  it  is  the  triumph 
of  the  unfit,  the  ascendancy  of  the  second-rate,  the  con- 
quest of  quahty  by  quantity,  the  smothering  of  the  hard 
and  true  under  the  feather-bed  of  the  soft  and  the 
false. 

Some  may  prefer  the  softer  type  of  character,  and 
may  hope  that  it  will  make  civilisation  more  humane 
and  compassionate.  .  .  .  Unfortunately,  experience 
shows  that  none  is  so  cruel  as  the  disillusioned  senti- 
mentalist. He  thinks  that  he  can  break  or  ignore 
nature's  laws  with  impunity;  and  then,  when  he  finds 
that  nature  has  no  sentiment,  he  rages  like  a  mad  dog 
and  combines  with  his  theoretical  objection  to  capital 
punishment  a  lust  to  murder  all  who  disagree  with  him. 


DEAN  INGE  29 

Beware  of  sentiment !  Beware  of  it  in  politics,  beware 
of  it  in  religion.  See  things  as  they  are.  Accept  human 
nature  for  what  it  is.  Consult  history.  Judge  by 
reason  and  experience.     Act  with  courage. 

As  he  faces  politics,  so  he  faces  religion. 

He  desires  to  rescue  Christianity  from  all  the  senti- 
mental vulgarities  which  have  disfigured  it  in  recent 
years — alike  from  the  aesthetic  extravagances  of  the 
ritualist  and  the  organising  f  ussiness  of  the  evangelical ; 
to  rescue  it  from  these  obscuring  unessentials,  and  to 
set  it  clearly  before  the  eyes  of  mankind  in  the  pure 
region  of  thought — a  divine  philosophy  which  teaches 
the  only  true  science  of  life,  a  discipline  which  fits  the 
Soul  for  its  journey,  "by  an  inner  ascent,"  to  the 
presence  of  God.  Mysticism,  he  says,  is  the  pursuit  of 
ultimate,  objective  truth,  or  it  is  nothing. 

Christianity  demands  the  closest  attention  of  the 
mind.  It  cannot  be  seen  at  a  glance,  understood  in  a 
moment,  adopted  by  a  gesture.  It  is  a  deep  and  pro- 
found philosophy  of  life.  It  proposes  a  transvaluation 
of  values.  It  insists  that  the  spiritual  life  is  the  only 
true  life.  It  sets  the  invisible  above  the  visible,  and 
the  eternal  above  the  temporal.  It  tears  up  by  the 
roots  the  lust  of  accumulation.  It  brings  man  face  to 
face  with  a  choice  that  is  his  destiny.  He  must  think, 
he  must  decide.  He  cannot  serve  both  God  and 
Mammon.  Either  his  life  must  be  given  for  the 
imperishable  values  of  spiritual  existence  or  for  the 
meats  that  perish  and  the  flesh  that  will  see  corruption. 


30  PAINTED  WINDOWS 

Let  a  man  choose.  Christianity  contradicts  all  his 
natural  ideas;  but  let  him  think,  let  him  listen  to  the 
voice  of  God,  and  let  him  decide  as  a  rational  being.  Let 
him  not  presume  to  set  up  his  trivial  notions,  or  to  think 
that  he  can  silence  Truth  by  bawling  falsehood  at 
the  top  of  his  voice.  Let  him  be  humble.  Let  him 
Hsten  to  the  teacher.  Let  him  give  all  his  attention 
to  this  great  matter,  for  it  concerns  his  soul. 

Here  again  is  the  aristocratic  principle.  The  average 
man,  until  he  has  disciplined  his  reason  to  understand 
this  great  matter,  must  hold  his  peace;  certainly  he 
must  not  presume  to  lay  down  the  law. 

When  we  exclaim  against  this  doctrine,  and  speak 
with  enthusiasm  of  the  virtues  of  the  poor,  Dr.  Inge 
asks  us  to  examine  those  virtues  and  to  judge  of  their 
worth.  Among  the  poor,  he  quotes,  "generosity  ranks 
far  before  justice,  sympathy  before  truth,  love  before 
chastity,  a  pliant  and  obliging  disposition  before  a 
rigidly  honest  one.  In  brief,  the  less  admixture  of 
intellect  required  for  the  practice  of  any  virtue,  the 
higher  it  stands  in  popular  estimation." 

But  we  are  to  love  God  with  all  our  mind,  as  well  as 
with  all  our  heart. 

Does  he,  then,  shut  out  the  humble  and  the  poor  from 
the  Kingdom  of  God? 

Not  for  a  moment.  "Ultimately,  we  are  what  we 
love  and  care  for,  and  no  limit  has  been  set  to  what  we 
may  become  without  ceasing  to  be  ourselves."  The 
door  of  love  stands  open,  and  through  that  doorway 


DEAN  INGE  31 

the  poor  and  the  ignorant  may  pass  to  find  the  satis- 
faction of  the  saint.  But  they  must  be  careful  to  love 
the  right  things — to  love  truth,  goodness,  and  beauty. 
They  must  not  be  encouraged  to  sentimentalise;  they 
must  be  bidden  to  decide.  The  poor  can  be  debauched 
as  easily  as  the  rich.     Many  are  called,  but  few  chosen. 

His  main  protest  is  against  the  rule  of  the  ignorant, 
the  democratic  principle  appHed  to  the  amor  intellec- 
tualis  Dei.  Rich  and  poor,  learned  and  ignorant, 
all  must  accept,  with  humiUty,  the  teaching  of  the 
Master.  Plotinus,  he  points  out,  was  the  schoolmaster 
who  brought  Augustine  to  Christ.  The  greatest  of  us 
has  to  learn.  He  who  would  teach  should  be  a  learner 
all  his  life. 

In  everything  he  says  and  writes  I  find  this  desire 
to  exalt  Truth  above  the  fervours  of  emotionahsm 
and  the  dangerous  drill  of  the  formahst.  Always 
he  is  caUing  upon  men  to  drop  their  prejudices  and 
catchwords,  to  forsake  their  conceits  and  sentiments, 
to  face  Truth  with  a  quiet  pulse  and  eyes  clear  of 
all  passion.  Christianity  is  a  tremendous  thing;  let  no 
man,  behever  or  unbeHever,  attempt  to  make  light  of  it. 

It  is  not  compassion  for  the  intellectual  difficulties 
of  the  average  man  which  has  made  Dr.  Inge  a  con- 
servative modernist,  if  so  I  may  call  him.  Sentiment 
of  no  kind  whatever  has  entered  into  the  matter.  He  is 
a  conservative  modernist  because  his  reason  has  con- 
vinced him  of  the  truth  of  reasonable  modernism,  be- 
cause he  has  "that  intellectual  honesty  which  dreads 


32  PAINTED  WINDOWS 

what  Plato  calls  'the  lie  in  the  soul'  even  more  than  the 
lie  on  the  lips."  He  is  a  modernist  because  he  is  an 
intellectual  ascetic. 

When  we  compare  his  position  with  that  of  Dr. 
Gore  we  see  at  once  the  width  of  the  gulf  which  separ- 
ates the  traditionalist  from  the  philosopher.  To  Dr. 
Gore  the  creeds  and  the  miracles  are  essential 
to  Christianity.  No  Virgin  Birth,  no  Sermon  on  the 
Mount !  No  Resurrection  of  the  Body,  no  Parable  of 
the  Prodigal  Son !  No  Descent  into  Hell,  no  revelation 
that  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven  is  within !  Need  we  wonder 
that  Dr.  Gore  cries  out  despairingly  for  more  discipline? 
He  summons  reason,  it  is  true,  but  to  defend  and  ex- 
plain creeds  without  which  there  is  no  Christianity. 

To  Dr.  Inge,  on  the  other  hand,  it  is  what  Christ 
said  that  matters,  what  He  taught  that  demands 
our  obedience,  what  He  revealed  that  commands 
our  love.  Christianity  for  him  is  not  a  series  of  extra- 
ordinary acts,  but  a  voice  from  heaven.  It  is  not  the 
Christ  of  tradition  before  whom  he  bows  his  knee,  but 
the  Christ  of  history,  the  Christ  of  faith,  the  Christ 
of  experience — the  living  and  therefore  the  evolving 
Christ.  And  for  him,  as  for  the  great  majority  of 
searching  men,  the  more  the  mists  of  pious  aberglaube 
lift,  the  more  real,  the  more  fair,  and  the  more  divine 
becomes  the  Face  of  that  living  Christ,  the  more  close 
the  sense  of  His  companionship. 

A  friend  of  mine  once  asked  him,  "Are  you  a 
Christian  or  a  Neoplatonist  ? "    He  smiled.    ' '  It  would 


DEAN  INGE  33 

be  difficult  to  say,"  he  replied.  He  was  thinking,  I  am 
sure,  of  Troeltsch's  significant  prophecy,  and  warning, 
that  the  Future  of  Christian  philosophy  depends  on  the 
renewal  of  its  alliance  with  Neoplatonism. 

Let  no  man  suppose  that  the  intellectual  virtues 
are  outside  the  range  of  religion.  "Candour,  moral 
courage,  intellectual  honesty,  scrupulous  accuracy, 
chivalrous  fairness,  endless  docility  to  facts,  dis- 
interested collaboration,  unconquerable  hopefulness 
and  perseverance,  manly  renunciation  of  popularity 
and  easy  honours,  love  of  bracing  labour  and 
strengthening  solitude;  these,  and  many  other  cognate 
qualities,"  says  Baron  von  Hiigel,  "bear  upon  them 
the  impress  of  God  and  His  Christ."  What  Dr.  Inge, 
who  quotes  these  words,  says  of  Plotinus  declares  his  own 
character.  He  speaks  of ' '  the  intense  honesty  of  the  man , 
who  never  shirks  a  difficulty  or  writes  an  insincere  wordy 

But  though  he  is  associated  in  the  popular  mind 
chiefly  with  modernism,  Dr.  Inge  is  not  by  any  means 
only  a  controversial  theologian.  Above  and  beyond 
everything  else,  he  is  a  mystic.  You  may  find 
indications  of  this  truth  even  in  a  book  Hke  Outspoken 
Essays,  but  they  are  more  numerous  in  his  two  little 
volumes.  The  Church  and  the  Age  and  Speculum  Animce, 
and  of  course  more  numerous  still  in  his  great  work  on 
Plotinus.^     He  is  far  more  a  mystic  than  a  modernist. 

'  "  1  have  often  thought  that  the  unquestionable  inferiority  of  German 
literature  about  Platonism  points  to  an  inherent  defect  in  the  German 
mind." — The  Philosophy  of  Plotinus,  p.  13 


34  PAINTED  WINDOWS 

Indeed  I  regard  him  as  the  Erasmus  of  modernism, 
one  so  sure  of  truth  that  he  would  trust  time  to  work  for 
his  ideas,  would  avoid  fighting  altogether,  but  certainly 
all  fighting  that  is  in  the  least  degree  premature.  The 
two  thousand  years  of  Christianity,  he  says  somewhere, 
are  no  long  period  when  we  remind  ourselves  that  God 
spent  millions  of  years  in  moulding  a  bit  of  old  red 
sandstone. 

Meanwhile  we  have  our  cocksure  little  guides,  some 
of  whom  say  to  us,  "That  is  primitive,  therefore  it  is 
good,"  and  others,  "This  is  up-to-date,  therefore  it  is 
better."     Not  very  wise  persons  any  of  them,  I  fear. 

And  again,  writing  of  Catholic  Modernism  in  France : 

We  have  given  our  reasons  for  rejecting  the  Modernist 
attempt  at  reconstruction.  In  the  first  place,  we  do  not 
feel  that  we  are  required  by  sane  criticism  to  surrender 
nearly  all  that  M.  Loisy  has  surrendered.  We  believe 
that  the  Kingdom  of  God  which  Christ  preached  was 
something  much  more  than  a  platonic  dream.  We 
believe  that  He  did  speak  as  never  man  spake,  so  that 
those  who  heard  Him  were  convinced  that  He  was  more 
than  man.  We  believe,  in  short,  that  the  object  of  our 
worship  was  a  historical  figure. 

I  will  give  a  few  extracts  from  Speculum  Animce,  a 
most  valuable  and  most  beautiful  little  book,  which 
show  the  true  bent  of  his  mind : 

On  all  questions  about  religion  there  is  the  most  dis- 
tressing divergency.  But  the  saints  do  not  contradict 
each  other. 


DEAN  INGE  35 

Prayer  ...  is  "the  elevation  of  the  mind  and  heart 
to  God. "  It  is  in  prayer,  using  the  word  in  this  extended 
sense,  that  we  come  into  immediate  contact  with  the  things 
that  cannot  be  shaken. 

Are  we  to  set  against  such  plain  testimony  the  pessi- 
mistic agnosticism  of  a  voluptuary  Hke  Omar  Khayydm? 

There  was  the  Door  to  which  I  found  no  Key.  .  .  . 

May  it  not  be  that  the  door  has  no  key  because  it  has 
no  lock  ? 

The  suggestion  that  in  prayer  we  only  hear  the  echo 
of  our  own  voices  is  ridiculous  to  anyone  who  has  prayed. 

The  life  of  Christ  was  throughout  a  life  of  prayer. 
Not  only  did  He  love  to  spend  many  hours  in  lonely 
communing  with  His  Father,  on  the  mountain-tops, 
which  He  was  perhaps  the  first  to  love,  and  to  choose  for 
this  purpose,  but  His  whole  life  was  spent  in  habitual 
realisation  of  God's  presence. 

Religion  is  caught  rather  than  taught ;  it  is  the  religious 
teacher,  not  the  religious  lesson,  that  helps  the  pupil  to 
believe. 

What  we  love,  that  we  see ;  and  what  we  see,  that  we  are. 

We  need  above  all  things  to  simplify  our  reHgion  and 
our  inner  hfe  generally. 

We  want  to  separate  the  essential  from  the  non- 
essential, to  concentrate  our  faith  upon  the  pure  God- 
consciousness,  the  eternal  world  which  to  Christ  was  so 
much  nearer  and  more  real  than  the  world  of  external 
objects. 

Christ  meant  us  to  be  happy,  happier  than  any  other 
people. 

It  is  because  he  is  so  profoundly  convinced  of  the 
mystical  truth   of   Christianity,    because  he  has   so 


36  PAINTED  WINDOWS 

honestly  tried  and  so  richly  experienced  that  truth  as  a 
philosophy  of  life,  it  is  because  of  this,  and  not  out  of  a 
lack  of  sympathy  with  the  sad  and  sorrowful,  that  he 
opposes  himself  to  the  obscurantism  of  the  Anglo- 
Catholic  and  the  emotional  economics  of  the  political 
reformer. 

"The  Christian  cure,"  he  says,  "is  the  only  real  cure." 
The  socialist  is  talking  in  terms  of  the  old  currency,  the 
currency  of  the  world's  quantitative  standards;  but 
Christ  introduced  a  new  currency,  which  demonetises 
the  old.  Spiritual  goods  are  unlimited  in  amount ;  they 
are  increased  by  being  shared;  and  we  rob  nobody  by 
taking  them.  He  believes  with  Creighton  that ' '  Social- 
ism will  only  be  possible  when  we  are  all  perfect,  and 
then  it  will  not  be  needed." 

In  the  meantime,  * '  Christianity  increases  the  wealth 
of  the  world  by  creating  new  values."  Only  in  the 
currency  of  Christ  can  true  socialism  hope  to  pay 
its  way. 

We  miss  the  heart  and  centre  of  his  teaching  if  we 
forget  for  a  moment  that  it  is  his  conviction  of  the 
sufficiency  of  Christ's  revelation  which  makes  him  so 
deadly  a  critic  both  of  the  ritualist  and  the  socialist — 
two  terms  which  on  the  former  side  at  least  tend  to 
become  synonymous.  He  would  have  no  distraction 
from  the  mystery  of  Christ,  no  compromise  of  any  kind 
in  the  world's  loyalty  to  its  one  Physician.  Simplify 
your  dogmas ;  simplify  your  theologies.  Christ  is  your 
one  essential. 


DEAN  INGE  37 

I  have  spoken  to  him  about  psychical  research 
and  the  modern  interest  in  spiritualism.  "I  don't 
think  much  of  that!"  he  replied.  Then,  in  a  lower 
key,  "It  was  not  through  animism  and  necromancy 
that  the  Jews  came  to  believe  in  immortaHty."  How 
did  they  reach  that  beUef  ?  "By  thinking  things  out, 
and  asking  the  question,  Shall  not  the  Judge  of  all  the 
earth  do  right?" 

The  answer  is  characteristic.  Dr.  Inge  has  thought 
things  out ;  everything  in  his  faith  has  been  thought  out ; 
and  the  basis  of  all  his  thinking  is  acceptance  of  absolute 
values — absolute  truth,  absolute  goodness,  absolute 
beauty.  No  breath  from  the  class-rooms  agitated  by 
Einstein  can  shake  his  faith  in  these  absolutes.  His 
Spirit  of  the  Universe  is  absolute  truth,  absolute  good- 
ness, absolute  beauty.  He  is  a  Neoplatonist,  but  some- 
thing more.  He  ascends  into  communion  with  this 
Universal  Spirit  whispering  the  Name  of  Christ,  and 
by  the  power  of  Christ  in  his  soul  addresses  the  Absolute 
as  Abba,  Father. 

No  man  is  freer  from  bigotry  or  intolerance,  though 
not  many  can  hate  falsity  and  lies  more  earnestly. 
The  Church  of  England,  he  tells  me,  should  be  a 
national  church,  a  church  expressing  the  highest  reach 
of  English  temperament,  with  room  for  all  shades  of 
thought.  He  quotes  Dollinger,  '"No  church  is  so  na- 
tional, so  deeply  rooted  in  popular  affection,  so  bound  up 
with  the  institutions  and  manners  of  the  country,  or  so 
powerful  in  its  influences  on  national  character."    But 


38  PAINTED  WINDOWS 

this  was  written  in  1872.  Dr.  Inge  says  now,  "The 
EngHsh  Church  represents,  on  the  religious  side,  the 
convictions,  tastes,  and  prejudices  of  the  EngHsh 
gentleman,  that  truly  national  ideal  of  character.  .  .  . 
A  love  of  order,  seemliness,  and  good  taste  has  led  the 
AngHcan  Church  along  a  middle  path  between  what  a 
seventeenth  century  divine  called  'the  meretricious 
gaudiness  of  the  Church  of  Rome  and  the  squaHd  slut- 
terny  of  fanatic  conventicles. 

Uniformity,  he  tells  me,  is  not  to  be  desired.  One  of 
our  greatest  mistakes  was  letting  the  Wesleyan  Metho- 
dists go ;  they  should  have  been  accommodated  within 
the  fold.  Another  fatal  mistake  was  made  by  the 
Lambeth  Conference,  in  its  insistence  on  re-ordination. 
Imagine  the  Church  of  England,  with  two  Scotch 
Archbishops  at  its  head,  thinking  that  the  Presbyterians 
would  consent  to  so  humiUating  a  condition !  An  inter- 
change of  pulpits  is  desirable;  it  might  increase  our 
intelHgence,  or  at  least  it  should  widen  our  sympathy. 
He  holds  a  high  opinion  of  the  Quakers.  "Practical 
mystics :  perhaps  they  are  the  best  Christians,  I  mean 
the  best  of  them." 

Modernism,  he  defines,  at  its  simplest,  as  personal 
experience,  in  contradistinction  from  authority.  The 
modernist  is  one  whose  knowledge  of  Christ  is  so  per- 
sonal and  direct  that  it  does  not  depend  on  miracle  or 
any  accident  of  His  earthly  Hfe.  Rome,  he  thinks,  is  a 
falling  power,  but  she  may  get  back  some  of  her  strength 
in  any  great  industrial  calamity — a  revolution,  for 


DEAN  INGE  39 

example.  Someone  once  asked  him  which  he  would 
choose,  a  Black  tyranny,  or  a  Red  ?  He  replied  ' '  On  the 
whole,  I  think  a  Black."  The  friend  corrected  him. 
"You  are  wrong.  Men  would  soon  emerge  from  the 
ruins  of  a  Red  tyranny,  but  Rome  never  lets  go  her 
power  till  it  is  torn  from  her." 

His  contempt  for  the  idea  of  reunion  with  Rome  in  her 
present  condition  is  unmeasured.  "The  notion  almost 
reminds  us  of  the  cruel  jest  of  Mezentius,  who  bound 
the  living  bodies  of  his  enemies  to  corpses."  It  is  the 
contempt  both  of  a  great  scholar  and  a  great  EngHsh- 
man  for  ignorance  and  a  somewhat  ludicrous  pretension. 
' '  The  caput  orbis  has  become  provincial,  and  her  author- 
ity is  spurned  even  within  her  own  borders. ' '  England 
could  not  kneel  at  this  Italian  footstool  without  ceasing 
to  be  England. ' 

"A  profound  reconstruction  is  demanded,"  he  says, 
"and  for  those  who  have  eyes  to  see  has  been  already 
for  some  time  in  progress.  The  new  type  of  Christian- 
ity will  be  more  Christian  than  the  old,  because  it  will 
be  more  moral.  A  number  of  unworthy  beHefs  about 
God  are  being  tacitly  dropped,  and  they  are  so  treated 
because  they  are  unworthy  of  Him." 

He  sees  the  future  of  Christianity  as  a  deep  moral 
and  spiritual  power  in  the  hearts  and  minds  of 
men  who  have  at  length  learned  the  value  of  the 

»  "There  are,  after  all,  few  emotions  of  which  one  has  less  reason  to 
be  ashamed  than  the  little  lump  in  the  throat  which  the  Englishman 
feels  when  he  first  catches  sight  of  the  white  cliffs  of  'Do\evy— Outspoken 
Essays,  p.  58. 


40  PAINTED  WINDOWS 

new    currency,   and   have   exchanged   profession   for 
experience. 

But  this  Erasmus,  far  more  learned  than  the  other, 
and  with  a  courage  which  far  exceeds  the  other's,  and 
with  an  impatience  of  nature,  an  irritability  of  mind, 
which  the  other  seldom  knew,  is  nevertheless  patient  of 
change.  He  does  not  lead  as  decisively  as  he  might. 
He  does  not  strike  as  often  as  he  should  at  the 
head  of  error.  Perhaps  he  is  still  thinking.  Per- 
haps he  has  not  yet  made  up  his  mind  whether  "Art 
is  a  Crime  or  only  an  Absurdity,"  whether  Clergymen 
ought  to  be  multiplied  or  exterminated,  whether  in 
general  we  are   getting  on,  and  if  so  where  we  are 

going  to. 

I  feel  myself  that  his  mind  is  made  up,  though  he  is 
still  thinking  and  still  seeking;  and  I  attribute  his 
indecision  as  a  leader,  his  want  of  weight  in  the  affairs 
of  mankind,  to  one  fatal  deficiency  in  his  mysticism. 
It  is,  I  presume  to  suggest,  a  mysticism  which  is  separ- 
ated by  no  gulf  from  egoism — egoism  of  the  highest 
order  and  the  most  spiritual  character,  but  still  egoism. 
In  his  quest  of  God  he  is  not  conscious  of  others.  He 
thinks  of  mankind  with  interest,  not  with  affection. 
Humanity  is  a  spectacle,  not  a  brotherhood. 

When  one  speaks  to  him  of  the  confusion  and  anarchy 
in  the  rehgious  world,  and  suggests  how  hard  it  is  for 
the  average  man  to  know  which  way  he  should  follow, 
he  replies:  "Yes,  I'm  afraid  it's  a  bad  time  for  the 
ordinary  man. ' '     But  then  he  has  laid  it  down, ' '  There  is 


DEAN  INGE  41 

not  the  slightest  probabiHty  that  the  largest  crowd  will 
ever  be  gathered  in  front  of  the  narrow  gate. '  *  Still  one 
could  wish  that  he  felt  in  his  heart  something  of  the 
compassion  of  his  Master  for  those  who  have  taken  the 
road  of  destruction. 

He  attaches  great  importance  to  preaching.  He  does 
not  at  all  agree  with  the  sneer  at  "preaching-shops." 
That  is  a  convenient  sneer  for  the  younger  generation  of 
ritualists  who  have  nothing  to  say  and  who  perform 
ceremonies  they  don't  understand;  not  much  meaning 
there  for  the  modern  man.  No;  preaching  is  a  most 
important  office,  although  no  other  form  of  professional 
work  is  done  anything  like  so  badly.  But  a  preacher 
who  has  something  to  say  will  always  attract  intelligent 
people. 

One  does  not  discuss  with  him  the  kind  of  preach- 
ing necessary  to  convert  unintelligent  people.  That 
would  be  to  take  this  great  philosopher  out  of  his 
depth. 

As  for  the  Oxford  Movement,  he  regards  it  as  a 
changeling.  His  grandfather,  an  archdeacon,  was 
a  Tractarian,  a  friend  of  Pusey,  a  scholar  acquainted 
with  all  the  doctors ;  but  he  was  not  a  ritualist ;  he  did 
not  even  adopt  the  eastward  position.  The  modem 
ritualist  is  hardly  to  be  considered  the  lineal  descendant 
of  these  great  scholars.  "Romanticism,  which  dotes 
on  ruins,  shrinks  from  real  restoration  ...  a  Latin 
Church  in  England  which  disowns  the  Pope  is  an 
absurdity." 


42  PAINTED  WINDOWS 

No,  the  future  belongs  to  clear  thinking  and  rigorous 
honesty  of  the  intellect. 

Dr.  Inge  began  life  as  the  fag  of  Bishop  Ryle  at  Eton 
— the  one  now  occupying  the  Deanery  of  St.  Paul's; 
the  other  the  Deanery  of  Westminster,  both  scholars 
and  the  friendship  still  remaining.  He  was  a  shy  and 
timorous  boy.  No  one  anticipated  the  amazingly 
brilliant  career  which  followed  at  Cambridge,  and 
even  then  few  suspected  him  of  original  genius  until 
he  became  Lady  Margaret  Professor  of  Divinity 
in  1907.  His  attempts  to  be  a  schoolmaster  were 
unsuccessful.  He  was  not  good  at  maintaining  dis- 
cipline, and  deafness  somewhat  intensified  a  nervous 
irritability  which  at  times  puts  an  enormous  strain 
on  his  patience.  Nor  did  he  make  any  notable 
impression  as  Vicar  of  All  Saints',  Ennismore  Gar- 
dens, a  parochial  experience  which  lasted  two  years. 
Slowly  he  made  his  way  as  author  and  lecturer,  and  it 
was  not  until  he  came  to  St.  Paul's  that  the  world 
realised  the  greatness  of  his  mind  and  the  richness 
of  his  genius. 

As  a  correction  to  the  popular  delusion  concerning  his 
temperament  and  outlook,  although,  I  must  confess, 
there  is  something  about  him  suggestive  of  a  London 
Particular,  I  will  quote  in  conclusion  a  few  of  the  many 
witty  epigrams  which  are  scattered  throughout  his 
pages,  showing  that  he  has  a  sense  of  humour  which 
is  not  always  discernible  in  those  who  would  laugh  him 
away  as  an  unprofitable  depressionist. 


DEAN  INGE  43 

The  clerical  profession  was  a  necessity  when  most 
people  could  neither  read  nor  write. 

Seminaries  for  the  early  training  of  future  clergymen 
may  indeed  be  established;  but  beds  of  exotics  cannot 
be  raised  by  keeping  the  gardeners  in  greenhouses  while 
the  young  plants  are  in  the  open  air. 

It  is  becoming  impossible  for  those  who  mix  at  all  with 
their  fellow-men  to  believe  that  the  grace  of  God  is  dis- 
tributed denominationally. 

Like  other  idealisms,  patriotism  varies  from  a  noble 
devotion  to  a  moral  lunacy. 

Our  clergy  are  positively  tumbling  over  each  other 
in  their  eagerness  to  be  appointed  court-chaplain  to  King 
Demos. 

A  generation  which  travels  sixty  miles  an  hour  must  be 
five  times  as  civilised  as  one  which  only  travels  twelve. 

It  is  not  certain  that  there  has  been  much  change  in  our 
intellectual  and  moral  adornments  since  pithecanthropus 
dropped  the  first  half  of  his  name. 

I  cannot  help  hoping  that  the  human  race,  having 
taken  in  succession  every  path  except  the  right  one,  may 
pay  more  attention  to  the  narrow  way  that  leadeth  unto 
life. 

It  is  useless  for  the  sheep  to  pass  resolutions  in  favour 
of  vegetarianism,  while  the  wolf  remains  of  a  different 
opinion. 

After  the  second  century,  the  apologists  for  the  priest- 
hood are  in  smooth  waters. 


44  PAINTED  WINDOWS 

Not  everyone  can  warm  both  hands  before  the  fire 
of  life  without  scorching  himself  in  the  process. 

It  is  quite  as  easy  to  hypnotise  oneself  into  imbecility 
by  repeating  in  solemn  tones,  "Progress,  Democracy, 
Corporate  Unity,"  as  by  the  blessed  word  Mesopotamia, 
or,  like  the  Indians,  by  repeating  the  mystic  word  "  Om" 
five  hundred  times  in  succession. 

I  have  lived  long  enough  to  hear  the  Zeitgeist  invoked 
to  bless  very  different  theories. 

...  as  if  it  were  a  kind  of  impiety  not  to  float  with  the 
stream,  a  feat  which  any  dead  dog  can  accomplish.  .  .  . 

An  appendix  is  as  superfluous  at  the  end  of  the  human 
caecum  as  at  the  end  of  a  volume  of  light  literature. 

The  "traditions  of  the  first  six  centuries "  are  the 
traditions  of  the  rattle  and  the  feeding  bottle. 

In  speaking  to  me  last  year  of  the  crowded  waiting- 
lists  of  the  Public  Schools,  he  said:  "It  is  no  longer 
enough  to  put  down  the  name  of  one's  son  on  the  day  he 
is  born,  one  must  write  well  ahead  of  that:  *I  am 
expecting  to  have  a  son  next  year,  or  the  year  after,  and 

shall  be  obliged  if '     The  congestion  is  very  great,  in 

spite  of  the  increasing  fees  and  the  supertax." 

Much  of  his  journalism,  by  the  way,  has  the  edu- 
cation of  his  children  for  its  excuse  and  its  consecration 
— children  to  whom  the  Dean  of  St.  Paul's  reveals  in 
their  nursery  a  side  of  his  character  wholly  and  beauti- 
fully different  from  the  popular  legend. 

There  is  no  greater  mind  in  the  Church  of  England, 


DEAN  INGE  45 

no  greater  mind,  I  am  disposed  to  think,  in  the  English 
nation.  His  intellect  has  the  range  of  an  Acton,  his 
forthrightness  is  the  match  of  Dr.  Johnson's,  and  his  wit, 
less  biting  though  little  less  courageous  than  Voltaire's, 
has  the  illuminating  quaHty,  if  not  the  divine  playful- 
ness, of  the  wit  of  Socrates. 

But  he  lacks  that  profound  sympathy  with  the 
human  race  which  gives  to  moral  decisiveness  the  crea- 
tive energy  of  the  great  fighter.  A  lesser  man  than 
Erasmus  left  a  greater  mark  on  the  sixteenth  century. 

The  righteous  saying  of  Bacon  obstinately  presents 
itself  to  our  mind  and  seems  to  tarry  for  an  explanation : 
"The  nobler  a  soul  is,  the  more  objects  of  compassion 
it  hath." 


FATHER  KNOX 

Knox,  Rev.  Ronald  Arbuthnott;  b.  17th  Feb.,  1888;  4th  s.  of  the 
Rt.  Rev.  E.  A.  Knox,  Bishop  of  Manchester.  Educ:  Eton  (ist 
Scholarship);  BaUiol  College,  Oxford  (ist  Scholarship).  Hertford 
Scholarship,  1907;  Second  in  Honour  Moderations,  190S;  Ireland  and 
Craven  Scholarship,  1908;  ist  in  Litt.  Hum.,  1910;  Fellow  and  Lecturer 
at  Trinity  College,  Oxford,  1910;  Chaplain,  1912;  Resigned,  1917; 
received  into  the  Church  of  Rome,  September,  1917. 


FATHER   KNOX 


CHAPTER  III 

FATHER  KNOX 

Our  new  curate  preached,  a  pretty  hopefull  young  man, 
yet  somewhat  raw,  newly  come  from  college,  full  of  Latine 
sentences,  which  in  time  will  weare  off. — John  Evelyn. 

There  is  a  story  that  when  Father  Knox  was  an 
undergraduate  at  Oxford  he  sat  down  one  day  to  choose 
whether  he  would  be  an  agnostic  or  a  Roman  Catholic. 
"But  is  there  not  some  doubt  in  the  matter?"  inquired 
a  friend  of  mine,  to  whom  I  repeated  the  tale.  "Did 
he  really  sit  down  and  choose,  or  did  he  only  toss 
up?" 

The  story,  of  course,  is  untrue.  It  has  its  origin  in  the 
deUghtful  wit  and  brilliant  playfulness  of  the  young 
priest.  Everybody  loves  him,  and  nobody  takes  him 
seriously. 

Few  men  of  his  intellectual  stature  have  been  re- 
ceived with  so  little  trumpet -blowing  into  the  Roman 
Catholic  Church,  and  none  at  all,  I  think,  has  so  im- 
perceptibly retired  from  the  Church  of  England.  For 
all  the  interest  it  excited,  the  secession  of  this  extremely 
brilliant  person  might  have  been  the  secession  of  a 
sacristan  or  a  pew-opener.    He  did  not  so  much  "go 

♦  49 


50  PAINTED  WINDOWS 

over  to  Rome"  as  sidle  away  from  the  Church  of 
England. 

But  this  secession  is  well  worth  the  attention  of 
religious  students.  It  is  an  act  of  personality  which 
helps  one  to  understand  the  theological  chaos  of  the 
present-time,  and  a  deed  of  temperament  which  il- 
lumines some  of  the  more  obscure  movements  of  reli- 
gious psychology.  Ronnie  ICnox,  as  everybody  calls 
him,  the  eyes  lighting  up  at  the  first  mention  of  his 
name,  has  gone  over  to  the  Roman  Catholic  Church, 
not  by  any  means  with  a  smile  of  cynicism  on  his  face, 
but  rather  with  the  sweat  of  a  struggle  still  cHnging  to 
his  soul. 

He  is  the  son  of  an  Anglican  bishop,  a  good  man  whose 
strong  evangelical  convictions  led  him,  among  many 
other  similar  activities,  to  hold  missionary  services  on 
the  sands  of  Blackpool.  His  mother  died  in  his  infancy, 
and  he  was  brought  up  largely  with  uncles  and  aunts, 
but  his  own  home,  of  which  he  speaks  always  with 
reverence  and  affection,  was  a  kind  and  vigorous  estab- 
lishment, a  home  well  calculated  to  develop  his  scholarly 
wit  and  his  love  of  mischievous  fun.  Nothing  in  his 
surroundings  made  for  gloom  or  for  a  Calvinism  of  the 
soul.  The  swiftness  of  his  intellectual  development 
might  have  made  him  sceptical  of  theology  in  general, 
but  no  influence  in  his  home  was  likely  in  any  way  to 
make  him  sceptical  of  his  father's  theology  in  particular. 

He  went  to  Eton,  and  the  religion  in  which  he  had 
been  brought  up  stood  the  moral  test  of  the  most 


FATHER  KNOX  51 

critical  years  in  boyhood.  It  never  failed  him,  and  he 
never  questioned  it.  But  when  that  trial  was  over,  and 
after  an  illness  which  shook  up  his  body  and  mind,  he 
came  under  the  influence  of  a  matron  who  held  with  no 
little  force  of  character  the  views  of  the  Anglo-Catholic 
party.  These  views  stole  gradually  into  the  mind  of  the 
rather  effeminate  boy,  and  although  they  did  not  make 
him  question  the  theology  of  his  father  for  some  years, 
he  soon  found  himself  thinking  of  the  religious  opinions 
of  his  uncles  and  aunts  with  a  certain  measure  of 
superiority. 

"I  began  to  feel,"  he  told  me,  "that  I  was  living  in  a 
rather  provincial  world — the  world  described  by  Wells 
and  Arnold  Bennett." 

This  restlessness,  this  desire  to  escape  into  a  greater 
and  more  beautiful  world,  pursued  him  to  Oxford,  and, 
for  the  moment,  he  found  that  greater  and  beautiful 
world  in  the  life  of  Balliol.  Bishop  Ryle,  a  good  judge, 
has  spoken  to  me  of  the  young  man's  extraordinary 
facility  at  turning  English  poetry  at  sight  into  the  most 
melodious  Greek  and  Latin,  and  of  the  remarkable  range 
of  his  scholarship.  He  himself  has  told  us  of  his  love  of 
port  and  bananas,  his  joy  in  early  morning  celebrations 
in  the  chapel  of  Pusey  House,  his  tea-parties,  his  delight 
in  debates  at  the  Union,  of  which  he  became  President, 
and  of  his  many  friendships  with  undergraduates  of  a 
witty  and  flippant  turn  of  mind.  Like  many  effemi- 
nate natures,  he  was  glad  of  opportunities  to  prove  him- 
self a  good  fellow.    In  spite  of  no  heel-taps  when  the 


52  PAINTED  WINDOWS 

port  went  round,  he  won  the  Hertford  in  1907,  the 
Ireland  and  Craven  in  1908,  and  in  19 10  took  a  first  in 
Greats. 

He  became  a  Fellow  and  Lecturer  of  Trinity  College 
for  two  years,  then  its  Chaplain  for  five  years,  and, 
after  leading  a  life  of  extravagant  and  fighting  ritualism 
as  an  Anglican  priest,  at  the  end  of  that  period,  191 7, 
he  retired  from  the  Church  of  England  and  was  re- 
ceived into  the  Church  of  Rome. 

The  consolations  of  Anglo-Catholicism,  then,  were 
insufficient  for  the  spiritual  needs  of  this  scion  of  the 
Low  Church. 

What  were  those  needs  ? 

Were  they,  indeed,  spiritual  needs,  as  he  suggests 
by  the  title  of  his  book  A  Spiritual  Mneid,  or  (Esthetic 
needs,  the  needs  of  a  temperament? — a  temperament 
which  used  wit  and  raillery  chiefly  as  a  shield  for  its 
shrinking  and  quivering  emotions,  emotions  which  we 
must  take  note  of  if  we  are  to  understand  his  secession. 

He  was  at  Eton  when  a  fire  occurred  in  one  of  the 
houses,  two  boys  perishing  in  the  flames.  He  tells  us 
that  this  tragedy  made  an  impression  on  him,  for  it  fell 
at  a  time  in  his  life  when  "one  begins  to  fear  death." 
Fear  is  a  word  which  meets  us  even  in  the  sprightly 
pages  of  A  Spiritual  /Eneid,  a  volume  perhaps  more  fitly 
to  be  termed  "An  Esthetic  Ramp." 

He  loved  to  dash  out  of  college  through  the  chill 
mists  of  a  November  morning  to  worship  with  "the 
few  righteous  men"  of  the  University  in  the  Chapel  of 


FATHER  KNOX  53 

Pusey  House,  which  "conveyed  a  feeHng,  to  me  most 
gratifying,  of  catacombs,  oubliettes,  Jesuitry,  and  all  the 
atmosphere  of  mystery  that  had  long  fascinated  me." 

He  tells  us  how  his  nature  "craved  for  human  sym- 
pathy and  support,"  and  speaks  of  the  God  whom  he 
' '  worshipped,  loved,  and  feared. ' '  He  prayed  for  a  sick 
friend  with  "both  hands  held  above  the  level  of  my  head 
for  a  quarter  of  an  hour  or  more. ' '  He  was  a  Universal- 
ist  "recoiling  from  the  idea  of  hell."  He  believed  in 
omens,  though  he  did  not  always  take  them,  and  was 
thoroughly  superstitious.  "The  name  of  Rome  has 
always,  for  me,  stood  out  from  any  printed  page  merely 
because  its  initial  is  that  of  my  own  name."  "At 
the  time  of  my  ordination  I  took  a  private  vow,  which 
I  always  kept,  never  to  preach  without  making  some 
reference  to  Our  Lady,  by  way  of  satisfaction  for  the 
neglect  of  other  preachers."  He  was  a  youth  when 
he  took  the  vow  of  celibacy.  He  had  the  desire,  he  tells 
us,  to  make  himself  thoroughly  uncomfortable — as 
Byron  would  say,  "to  merit  Heaven  by  making  earth  a 
Hell."  His  superstitions  were  often  ludicrous  even  to 
himself.  On  one  occasion  in  boyhood,  he  was  trying  to 
get  a  fire  to  burn :  "Let  this  bean  omen,"  he  said.  "If 
I  can  get  this  fire  to  burn,  the  Oxford  Movement  was 
justified." 

A  visit  to  Belgium  hastened  the  inevitable  decision  of 
such  a  temperament : 

.    .    .  the  extraordinary  devotion  of  the  people  wher- 
ever we  went,  particularly  at  Bruges,  struck  home  with 


54  PAINTED  WINDOWS 

a  sense  of  immeasurable  contrast  to  the  churches  of  one's 
own  country.   .    .    . 

He  did  not  apparently  feel  the  moral  contrast 
between  Belgian  and  English  character. 

.  .  .  The  tourist,  I  know,  thinks  of  it  as  Bruges  la 
Morte,  but  then  the  tourist  does  not  get  up  for  early 
Masses;  he  would  find  life  then  ...  he  can  at  least 
go  on  Friday  morning  to  the  chapel  of  the  Saint  Sang 
and  witness  the  continuous  stream  of  people  that  flows 
by,  hour  after  hour,  to  salute  the  relic  and  to  make  their 
devotions  in  its  presence;  he  would  find  it  hard  to  keep 
himself  from  saying,  like  Browning  at  High  Mass,  "This 
is  too  good  not  to  be  true." 

Might  he  not  perhaps  say  with  another  great  man, 
"What  must  God  be  if  He  is  pleased  by  things  which 
simply  displease  His  educated  creatures?"  In  a  coun- 
try where  the  churches  were  once  far  more  crowded 
than  in  Belgium,  I  was  told  by  a  discerning  man,  Prince 
Alexis  Obolensky,  a  former  Procurator  of  the  Holy 
Synod,  that  all  such  devotion  is  simply  superstition. 
He  said  he  would  gladly  give  me  all  Russia's  spirituality 
if  I  could  give  him  a  tenth  of  England's  moral  earnest- 
ness.   And  he  told  me  this  story : 

A  man  set  out  one  winter's  night  to  murder  an  old 
woman  in  her  cottage.  As  he  tramped  through  the  snow 
with  the  hatchet  under  his  blouse,  it  suddenly  occurred  to 
him  that  it  was  a  Saint's  Day.  Instantly  he  dropped 
on  his  knees  in  the  snow,  crossed  himself  violently  with 
trembling  hands,  and  in  a  guilty  voice  implored  God  to 
forgive  him  for  his  evil  intention.    Then  he  rose  up,  re- 


FATHER  KNOX 


55 


freshed  and  forgiven,  postponing  the  murder  till  the  next 
night. 

Undoubtedly,  I  fear,  the  devotion  of  priest-ridden 
countries,  which  evokes  so  spectacular  an  effect  on  the 
stranger  of  unbalanced  judgment,  is  largely  a  matter 
of  superstition;  how  many  prayers  are  inspired  by  a 
lottery,  how  many  candles  lighted  by  fear  of  a  ghost  ? 

But  Father  Knox,  whose  aesthetic  nature  had  early 
responded  with  a  vital  impulse  to  Gothic  architecture 
and  the  pomp  and  mystery  of  priestly  ceremonial,  felt  in 
Bruges  that  the  spirit  of  the  Chapel  of  the  Sacred  Blood 
must  be  introduced  into  the  Church  of  England  "to 
save  our  country  from  lapsing  into  heathenism."  What, 
I  wonder,  is  his  definition  of  that  term,  heathenism? 

Bruges  had  a  decisive  effect,  not  only  on  his  aesthetic 
impulses,  but  on  his  moral  sense.  His  conduct  as  an 
Anglican  priest  was  frankly  that  of  a  Roman  propa- 
gandist. I  do  not  know  that  any  words  more  damning 
to  the  Romish  spirit  have  ever  been  written  than  those 
in  which  this  most  charming  and  brilliant  young  man 
tells  the  story  of  his  treachery  to  the  Anglican  Church. 
Of  celebrating  the  Communion  service  he  says : 

.  .  .  my  own  principle  was,  whenever  I  spoke  aloud, 
to  use  the  language  of  the  Prayer  Book,  when  I  spoke 
secreto,  to  use  the  words  ordered  by  the  Latin  missal. 

He  said  of  his  propaganda  work  at  this  time : 

The  Roman  Catholics  .  .  .  have  to  serenade  the 
British  public  from  the  drive;  we  Anglican  Catholics 
have  the  entree  to  the  drawing-room. 


56  PAINTED  WINDOWS 

His  enthusiasm  for  the  Roman  service  was  such  that  in 
one  place 

I  had  to  travel  for  three  quarters  of  an  hour  to  find 
a  church  where  my  manner  of  celebrating,  then  perhaps 
more  reminiscent  of  the  missal  than  of  the  Prayer  Book, 
was  tolerated  even  in  a  Mass  of  Devotion. 

About  this  time  I  celebrated  at  a  community  chapel. 
One  of  the  brethren  was  heard  to  declare  afterwards 
that  if  he  had  known  what  I  was  going  to  do  he  would 
have  got  up  and  stopped  me. 

At  the  conclusion  of  one  of  his  celebrations  abroad, 
an  Englishman  in  the  congregation  exclaimed,  "Thank 
God  that's  over."  After  his  first  sermon  in  Trinity 
Chapel,  an  undergraduate  ("afterwards  not  only  my 
friend  but  my  penitent ")  was  heard  to  declare  excitedly : 
"  Such  fun !  The  new  Fellow's  been  preaching  heresy — 
all  about  Transubstantiation." 

Such  fun!  This  note  runs  through  the  whole  of  A 
Spiritual  JEneid.  A  thoroughly  undergraduate  spirit 
inspires  every  page  save  the  last.  Religion  is  treated  as 
a  lark.  It  is  full  of  opportunities  for  plotting  and  rag- 
ging and  pulling  the  episcopal  leg.  One  is  never  con- 
scious, not  for  a  single  moment,  that  the  author  is  writ- 
ing about  Jesus  of  Nazareth,  Gethsemane,  and  Calvary. 
About  a  Church,  yes;  about  ceremonial,  about  myste- 
rious rites,  about  prayers  to  the  Virgin  Mary,  about 
authority,  and  about  bishops;  yes,  indeed;  but  about 
Christ's  transvaluation  of  values,  about  His  secret, 
about  His  religion  of  the  pure  heart  and  the  childlike 
spirit,  not  one  single  glimpse. 


FATHER  KNOX  57 

Now  let  us  examine  his  intellectual  position. 

In  the  preface  to  Some  Loose  Stones,  ^  written  before 
he  went  over  to  Rome,  he  explains  his  position  to  the 
modernist : 

.  .  .  there  are  limits  defined  by  authority,  within 
which  theorising  is  unnecessary  and  speculation  for- 
bidden. 

But  I  should  like  here  to  enter  a  protest  against  the 
assumption  .  .  .  that  the  obscurantist,  having  fenced 
himself  in  behind  his  wall  of  prejudices,  enjoys  an  unin- 
terrupted and  ignoble  peace. 

The  soldier  who  has  betaken  himself  to  a  fortress  is 
thereby  in  a  more  secure  position  than  the  soldier  who 
elects  to  fight  in  the  open  plain.  He  has  ramparts  to 
defend  him.  But  he  has,  on  the  other  hand,  ramparts  to 
defend.   .    ,    .     For  him  there  is  no  retreat. 

The  whole  position  stands  or  falls  by  the  weakest  parts 
in  the  defences;  give  up  one  article  of  the  Nicene  Creed, 
and  the  whole  situation  is  lost;  you  go  under,  and  the 
flag  you  loved  is  forfeit. 

And  yet : 

I  can  feel  every  argument  against  the  authenticity  of 
the  Gospels,  because  I  know  that  if  I  approached  therrr 
myself  without  faith  I  should  as  likely  as  not  brush  them 
aside  impatiently  as  one  of  a  whole  set  of  fables. 

They  would  be  fables  to  him  unless  he  approached 
them  with  faith.  And  what  is  faith  ?  He  tells  us  in  the 
same  preface :  * '  Faith  is  to  me,  not  an  intellectual  pro- 
cess, but  a  divine  gift,  a  special  privilege." 

It  is  fair  to  say  that  he  would  now  modify  this  defini- 

■  An  answer  to  the  volume  called  Foundations. 


58  PAINTED  WINDOWS 

tion,  for  he  has  told  me  that  it  is  a  heresy  to  exclude 
from  faith  the  operations  of  the  intellect.  But  the 
words  were  written  when  he  was  fighting  the  battle  of 
the  soul,  written  almost  on  the  same  page  as  that  which 
bears  these  words : 

You  have  not  done  with  doubt,  because  you  have 
thrown  yourself  into  the  fortress;  you  are  left  to  keep 
doubt  continually  at  bay,  with  the  cheerful  assurance 
that  if  you  fail,  the  whole  of  your  religious  life  has  been 
a  ghastly  mistake   .    .    . 

for  this  reason,  they  have,  I  think,  a  notable  significance. 

Is  it  not  probable  that  Father  Knox  has  thrown 
himself  into  a  fortress,  not  out  of  any  burning  desire 
to  defend  it,  but  solely  to  escape  from  the  enemy  of  his 
own  soul?  Is  it  not  probable  that  he  was  driven  from 
the  field  by  Fear  rather  than  summoned  to  the  battle- 
ments by  Love  ? 

I  find  this  inference  justified  in  numerous  ways, 
and  I  do  not  think  on  the  whole  that  Father  Knox 
himself  would  deny  it.  But  chiefly  I  find  it  justified 
by  the  form  and  substance  of  his  utterances  since  he 
became  a  Roman  Catholic — fighting  and  most  challeng- 
ing utterances  which  for  me  at  any  rate  are  belied,  and 
tragically  belied,  by  a  look  in  his  eyes  which  is  un- 
mistakably, I  am  forced  to  think,  the  look  of  one  who  is 
still  wrestling  with  doubt,  one,  I  would  venture  to 
hazard,  who  may  even  occasionally  be  haunted  by  the 
dreadful  fear  that  his  fortress  is  his  prison. 

On  the  day  that  Newman  entered  that  fortress  the 


FATHER  KNOX  59 

triumphant  cry  of  St.  Augustine  rang  in  his  ears,  Securus 
judical  orbis  terrarum;  but  later  came  the  moan  Quis 
mihi  tribuat,  and  later  still  the  stolen  journey  to  Little- 
more  and  that  paroxysm  of  tears  as  he  leaned  over  the 
lych-gate  looking  at  the  church. 

Not  long  ago  I  went  one  Sunday  evening  to  West- 
minster Cathedral.  It  was  winter,  and  the  streets  of 
tall  and  sullen  houses  in  that  gloomy  neighbourhood 
were  darkening  with  fog.  This  fog  crept  slowly  into  the 
cathedral.  The  surpliced  boy  who  presented  an  alms- 
dish  just  within  the  doors  was  stamping  his  feet  and 
snuffling  with  cold.  The  leaves  of  tracts  and  pamphlets 
on  the  table  blew  up  and  chattered  in  the  wind  every 
time  the  door  was  thrust  open. 

The  huge  building  was  only  half  filled,  perhaps  hardly 
that.  Through  the  fog  it  was  not  easy  to  see  the  glitter- 
ing altar,  and  when  three  priests  appeared  before  it 
their  vestments  so  melted  into  the  cloth  that  they  were 
visible  only  when  they  bowed  to  the  monstrance.  The 
altar  bell  rang  snappishly  through  this  cold  fog  like  the 
dinner  bell  of  a  boarding  house,  and  in  that  yellow  mist, 
which  deepened  with  every  minute,  the  white  flames  of 
the  candles  lost  nearly  all  their  starHke  brightness. 
There  seemed  to  be  depression  and  resentment  in  the 
deep  voices  of  the  choir  rumbling  and  roUing  behind  the 
screen ;  there  seemed  to  be  haste,  a  desire  to  get  it  over, 
in  the  nasal  voice  of  the  priest  praying  ahnost  squeakily 
at  the  altar. 

People   were   continually   entering   the   cathedral, 


6o  PAINTED  WINDOWS 

many  of  them  having  the  appearance  of  foreigners, 
many  of  them  young  men  who  looked  Hke  waiters :  one 
was  struck  by  their  reverence,  and  also  by  their  look  of 
intellectual  apathy. 

Father  Knox  appeared  in  the  pulpit,  which  is  sta- 
tioned far  down  the  nave,  having  come  from  his  work 
of  teaching  at  Ware  to  preach  to  the  faithful  at  West- 
minster. He  looked  very  young,  and  rather  apprehen- 
sive, a  slight  boyish  figure,  swaying  uneasily,  the  large 
luminous  eyes,  of  an  extraordinary  intensity,  almost 
glazed  with  Hght,  the  full  lips,  so  obviously  meant  for 
laughter,  parted  with  a  nervous  uncertainty,  a  wave  of 
thick  brown  hair  falling  across  the  narrow  forehead  with 
a  look  of  tiredness,  the  long  slender  hands  never  still  for 
a  moment. 

I  will  endeavour  to  summarise  his  remarkable  ser- 
mon, which  was  dehvered  through  the  fog  in  a  soft  and 
throaty  voice,  the  body  of  the  preacher  swaying  mo- 
notonously backward  and  forward,  the  congregation 
sitting  back  in  its  Httle  chairs  and  coughing  inconven- 
iently from  beginning  to  end.  It  was  the  strangest 
sermon  I  have  Hstened  to  for  many  years,  and  all  the 
stranger  for  its  unimpassioned  delivery.  • 

He  spoke  of  the  Fall  of  Man  as  a  certainty.'    He 

'  "  It  is  a  very  singular  and  important  fact  that,  from  the  appearance 
in  Genesis  of  the  account  of  the  creation  and  sin  and  punishment  of  the 
first  pair,  not  the  faintest  explicit  allusion  to  it  is  subsequently  found 
anywhere  in  literature  until  about  the  time  of  Christ.  .  .  .  Jesus 
Himself  never  once  alludes  to  Adam,  or  to  any  part  of  the  story  of 
Eden." — Alger. 


FATHER  KNOX  6l 

spoke  continually  of  an  offended  God.  Between  this 
offended  God  and  His  creature  Man  sin  had  dug  an 
impassable  chasm.  But  Christ  had  thrown  a  bridge, 
from  heaven's  side  of  that  chasm,  over  the  dreadful 
gulf.  This  is  why  Christ  described  Himself  as  the  Way. 
He  is  the  Way  over  that  chasm,  and  there  is  no  other. 

But  Christ  also  described  Himself  as  a  door.  What 
is  the  definition  of  a  door?  It  is  not  enough  to  say 
that  a  door  is  a  thing  for  letting  people  in  and  letting 
people  out.  It  is  a  thing  for  letting  some  people  in,  and 
for  shutting  other  people  out. 

To  whom  did  Christ  entrust  the  key  of  this  door? 
To  St.  Peter — to  the  disciple  who  had  denied  Him 
thrice.  What  a  marvellous  choice!  Would  you  have 
thought  of  doing  that?  Should  I  have  thought  of 
doing  that  ?  Would  any  theologian  have  invented  such 
an  idea  ?    But  that  is  what  Christ  did. 

And  ever  since,  St.  Peter  and  his  successors  have 
held  the  keys  of  Heaven  and  Hell,  with  power  to  loose 
and  bind.  What?  you  exclaim,  were  the  Keys  of 
Heaven  and  Hell  entrusted  to  even  those  Popes  who 
lived  sinful  Hves  and  brought  disgrace  on  the  name  of 
reHgion  ?  Yes.  To  them  and  to  no  others  in  their  day. 
Whatever  their  lives  may  have  been  at  other  moments, 
when  they  were  loosing  and  binding  they  were  acting  for 
St.  Peter,  who  stood  behind  them,  and  behind  St.  Peter 
stood  Jesus  Christ. 

Such  in  brief  was  the  sermon  delivered  that  Sunday 
evening  to  the  faithful  in  Westminster  Cathedral  by 


62  PAINTED  WINDOWS 

one  of  the  wittiest  men  now  living  and  one  of  the  clev- 
erest young  men  who  ever  came  down  from  Oxford  with 
the  assurance  of  a  great  career  before  them. 

How  is  it  that  he  has  come  to  such  a  pass  ? 

I  feel  that  he  is  in  part  whistling  to  keep  up  his 
courage,  but  in  chief  forcing  himself  to  utter  an  extreme 
of  traditional  belief  in  order  to  destroy  the  last  vestige 
in  his  mind  of  a  free  intellectual  existence.  Auto- 
suggestion has  a  power  of  which  we  only  begin  to  know 
the  first  movements. 

The  man  who  has  said  that  he  would  not  choose  as 
the  battleground  of  the  Christian  religion  either  "the 
credibility  of  Judges  or  the  edibility  of  Jonah,"  the  man 
who  is  blest  with  an  unusual  sense  of  humour  and  intel- 
lectual subtlety  of  a  rare  order,  is  here  found  preaching 
a  theology  which  is  fast  being  rejected  by  the  students  of 
Barcelona  and  is  being  questioned  even  by  the  peasants 
of  Ireland.  What  does  it  mean?  Is  it  possible  to 
understand  such  a  perversion  of  mind  ? 

His  intellectual  position,  as  he  states  it,  is  a  simple 
one — for  the  present. 

He  asks  us.  Is  Truth  something  which  we  are  ordered 
to  keep,  or  something  which  we  are  ordered  to  find  ? 

Is  our  business  holding  the  fort  ?  Or  is  it  looking  for 
the  Pole? 

The  traditionalist  can  say,  "Here  is  the  Truth, 
written  down  for  you  and  me  in  black  and  white;  I 
mean  to  keep  it,  and  defend  it  from  attack;  will  you 
rally  round  it ?    Will  you  help  me?" 


FATHER  KNOX  63 

He  shows  you  the  modernist  wandering  in  the 
wilderness  of  speculative  theology  looking  for  the 
Truth  which  the  traditionalist,  safe,  warm,  and  se- 
cure of  eternal  life,  keeps  whole  and  undefiled  in  his 
fortress. 

It  is  like  a  fairy  tale. 

How  simple  it  sounds !  But  when  Father  ICnox  looks 
in  the  glass  does  he  not  see  its  staring  fallacy? 

Did  he  keep  the  Truth  of  his  boyhood — the  Truth 
of  his  father's  church?  Did  he  not  go  outside  the  for- 
tress of  Evangelicalism  and  seek  for  Truth  in  the  for- 
tress of  Anglo-Catholicism?  And  here  again,  did  he 
not  break  faith,  and  once  more  seek  Truth  outside  its 
walls?  If  Truth  is  not  something  to  be  found,  how  is  it 
that  he  is  not  still  in  the  house  of  his  fathers? 

Does  he  fail  to  see  that  this  argument  not  merely 
explains  but  vindicates  the  rejection  of  Christ  by  the 
Jews?  They  had  their  tradition,  a  tradition  of  im- 
memorial sanctity,  perhaps  the  noblest  tradition  of  any 
people  in  the  world. 

Does  he  not  also  see  that  it  destroys  the  raison  d'etre 
of  the  Christian  missionary,  and  would  reduce  the  whole 
world  to  a  state  of  what  Nietzsche  called  Chinaism  and 
profound  mediocrity? 

Every  religion  in  history,  from  the  worship  of  Osiris, 
Serapis,  and  Mithras  to  the  loathsome  rites  practised  in 
the  darkness  of  African  forests,  has  been  handed  down 
as  unquestionable  truth  commanding  the  loyalty  of  its 
disciples.    What  logic,  what  magic  of  holiness,  could 


64  PAINTED  WINDOWS 

destroy  a  false  religion  if  tradition  is  sacrosanct  and  all 
innovation  of  the  devil? 

The  intellectual  duty  of  a  Christian,  Father  Knox  lays 
it  down,  is  "  to  resist  the  natural  tendencies  of  his  reason, 
and  believe  what  he  is  told,  just  as  he  is  expected  to 
do  what  he  is  told,  not  what  comes  natural  to  him." 

Such  a  proposition  provokes  a  smile,  but  in  the  case 
of  this  man  it  provokes  a  feeling  of  grief.  I  cannot 
bring  myself  to  beheve  that  he  has  yet  found  rest  for  his 
soul,  or  that  he  can  so  easily  strangle  the  free  existence 
of  his  mind.  His  present  position  fills  me  with  pity,  his 
future  with  apprehension. 

He  is  one  of  the  modestest  of  men,  almost  shrinking 
in  his  diffidence  and  nervous  self -distrust,  an  under- 
graduate who  is  mildly  excited  about  an  ingenious  line 
of  reasoning,  a  wit  who  loves  to  play  tricks  with  the 
subtlety  of  a  curiously  agile  brain,  a  casuist  who  sees 
quickly  the  chinks  in  the  armour  of  an  adversary.  But 
with  all  his  boyishness,  and  charm,  and  humility,  and 
engaging  cleverness,  there  is  a  light  in  his  eyes  too 
feverish  for  peace  of  mind.  I  cannot  prevent  myself 
from  thinking  that  his  secession,  which  was  something 
of  a  comedy  to  his  friends,  may  prove  something  of  a 
tragedy  to  him. 

He  seems  to  me  one  of  the  most  pathetic  examples  I 
ever  encountered  of  the  ruin  wrought  by  Fear.  I  think 
that  the  one  motive  of  his  life  has  been  a  constant  terror 
of  finding  himself  in  the  wrong.  The  door,  which  for 
Dr.  Inge  has  no  key,  because  it  has  no  lock,  is  to  Ronald 


FATHER  KNOX  65 

Knox  a  door  of  terror  which  opens  only  to  a  single  key — 
and  a  door  which  as  surely  shuts  out  from  eternal  life 
the  soul  that  is  wrong  as  the  soul  that  is  wicked.  He 
must  have  certainty.  He  dare  not  contemplate  the 
prospect  of  awaking  one  day  to  find  his  religious  life  "a 
ghastly  mistake." 

At  the  cross  roads  there  was  for  him  no  Good  Shep- 
herd, only  the  dark  shadow  of  an  offended  God.  He 
ran  for  safety,  for  certainty.    Has  he  found  them? 

It  may  be  that  the  last  of  his  doubts  will  leave  him, 
that  the  iron  discipline  of  the  Roman  Church  and  the 
auto-suggestion  of  his  own  earnest  passion  for  inward 
peace,  may  deliver  him  from  all  fear,  all  uneasiness,  and 
that  one  day,  forsaking  the  challenging  sermon  and  the 
too  violent  assertion  of  the  Catholic  faith,  he  may  find 
himself  sitting  down  in  great  peace  of  mind  and  with  a 
golden  mellowness  of  spirit  to  write  an  Apologia  pro 
Vita  Sim  more  genial  and  less  shallow  than  A  Spiritual 
JEneid. 

Such  a  book  from  his  pen  would  lack,  I  think,  the 
fine  sweetness  of  Newman's  great  work,  but  it  might 
excel  all  other  books  of  rehgious  autobiography  in 
charming  wit  and  endearing  good  humour.  The  Church 
of  Rome  has  caught  in  him  neither  a  Newman  nor  a 
Manning.  It  has  caught  either  a  Sydney  Smith  or  a 
Tartar. 

He  has  too  much  humour  to  be  a  bigot,  and  too  much 
humanity  to  be  satisfied  with  a  cell.    For  the  moment 
he  seems  to  embrace  Original  Sin,  to  fling  his  arms  round 
5 


66  PAINTED  WINDOWS 

the  idea  of  an  offended  God,  and  to  shout  at  the  top  of 
his  voice  that  there  is  no  violence  to  his  reason  and  to  his 
common  sense  which  he  cannot  contemplate  and  most 
gladly  accomplish,  in  the  name  of  Tradition;  but  the 
pulses  cool,  the  white  heat  of  enthusiasm  evaporates, 
fears  take  wing  as  we  grow  older,  and  whispers  from  the 
outer  world  of  advancing  and  conquering  men  find  their 
way  into  the  oldest  blockhouse  ever  built  against  the 
movements  of  thought. 

"Science,"  says  Dr.  Inge,  "has  been  the  slowly 
advancing  Nemesis  which  has  overtaken  a  barbarised 
and  paganised  Christianity.  She  has  come  with  a  win- 
nowing fan  in  her  hand,  and  she  will  not  stop  till  she  has 
thoroughly  purged  her  floor." 

I  am  sure  Ronald  Knox  was  never  meant  to  shut  his 
eyes  and  stop  his  ears  against  this  movement  of  truth, 
and  I  am  almost  sure  that  he  will  presently  find  it  im- 
possible not  to  look,  and  not  to  listen. 

And  then  .    .    .  what  then  ? 


DR.  L.  P.  JACKS 

Jacks,  Lawrence  Pearsall,  Principal  of  Manchester  College, 
Oxford,  since  191 5;  Professor  of  Philosophy,  Manchester  College, 
Oxford,  since  1903;  Editor  of  the  Hibbert  Journal  since  its  foundation, 
1902;  b.  Nottingham,  i860;  m.  1889  Olive  Cecilia,  d.  of  late  Rev.  Stop- 
ford  Brooke.  Educ:  University  School,  Nottingham;  University  of 
London  (M.A.,  1886) ;  Manchester  College;  Gottingen;  Harvard,  U.  S.  A. ; 
Hon.  M.A.,  Oxford;  Hon.  LL.D.,  Glasgow;  Hon.  D.D.  Harvard;  entered 
Ministry  as  assistant  to  Rev.  Stopford  Brooke,  in  Bedford  Chapel,  1887; 
subsequently  at  Renshaw  Street  Chapel,  Liverpool,  and  the  Church  of 
the  Messiah,  Birmingham. 


DR.    L.   P.   JACKS 


CHAPTER  IV 

DR.  L.  P.  JACKS 

As  an  excellent  amateur  huntsman  once  said  to  me,  "If  you 
must  cast,  lead  the  hounds  into  the  belief  that  they  are  doing  it 
themselves." — John  Andrew  Doyle. 

One  of  the  great  ladies  of  Oxford  was  telling  me  the 
other  day  that  she  remembers  a  time  when  friends  of 
hers  refused,  even  with  averted  eyes  and  a  bottle  of 
smelling  salts  at  the  nose,  to  go  down  the  road  where 
Mansfield  College  had  presumed  to  raise  its  red  walls  of 
Nonconformity. 

To-day  Manchester  College,  the  seat  of  Unitarianism, 
stands  on  this  same  dissenting  road,  and  thither  the 
ladies  of  Oxford  go  up  in  great  numbers  to  listen  to  the 
beautiful  music  which  distinguishes  the  chapel  service, 
the  chapel  itself  already  beautiful  enough  with  windows 
by  Burne-Jones. 

On  the  altar-cloth  of  this  chapel  are  embroidered  the 
words,  GOD  IS  LOVE.  No  tables  of  stone  flank  that 
gentle  altar,  and  no  panelled  creeds  on  the  walls  chal- 
lenge the  visitor  to  define  his  definitions.  The  atmos- 
phere of  the  place  is  worship.  The  greatest  of  all 
Christ's  affirmations  is  reckoned  enough.    God  is  love. 

69 


70  PAINTED  WINDOWS 

No  need,  then,  to  add— Therefore  with  Angels,  and 
Archangels,  and  all  the  Company  of  Heaven  .    .    . 

The  Principal  of  Manchester  College  is  Dr.  L.  P. 
Jacks,  the  Editor  of  The  Hihbert  Journal,  the  bio- 
grapher of  Stopford  Brooke  and  Charles  Hargrove, 
author  of  Mad  Shepherds,  Legends  of  Smokeover,  and 
other  books  which  have  won  the  affection  of  many- 
readers  and  the  praise  of  no  few  scholars.  He  is  a  man 
of  letters,  a  man  of  nature,  and  a  mystic. 

His  face  bears  a  strange  resemblance  to  the  unfor- 
gettable face  of  that  great  Unitarian,  James  Martineau, 
whom  Morley  calls  "the  most  brilHant  EngHsh  apolo- 
gist of  our  day";  it  lacks  the  marvellous  sweetness  of 
Martineau's  expression,  but  has  a  greater  strength ;  it 
does  not  bear  witness  to  so  sure  a  triumph  of  serenity, 
but  shows  the  marks  of  a  fiercer  battle,  and  the  scars  of 
deeper  wounds.  It  is  the  masculine  of  the  other's 
feminine. 

Like  Martineau's  the  head  with  its  crown  of  white 
hair  is  nobly  sculptured,  and  like  Martineau's  the  ivory 
coloured  face  is  ploughed  up  and  furrowed  by  mental 
strife ;  but  whereas  Martineau's  is  eminently  the  indoors 
face  of  a  student,  this  is  the  face  of  a  man  who  has  lived 
out  of  doors,  a  mountaineer  and  a  seafarer.  Under  the 
dense  bone  of  the  forehead  which  overhangs  them  like 
the  eave  of  a  roof,  the  pale  blue  eyes  look  out  at  you 
with  a  deep  inner  radiance  of  the  spirit,  but  from  the 
midst  of  a  face  which  has  been  stricken  and  has  winced. 
Something  of  the  resolution,  the  deliberateness,  the 


DR.  L.  P.  JACKS  71 

stem  power,  and  the  enduring  strength  of  his  spirit 
shows  itself,  I  think,  in  the  short  thickset  body,  with  its 
heavy  shoulders,  its  deep  chest,  its  broad  firm  upright 
neck,  and  its  slow  movements,  the  movements  as  it 
were  of  a  peasant.  Always  there  is  about  him  the  feel- 
ing of  the  fields,  the  sense  of  nature's  presence  in  his 
life,  the  atmosphere  of  distances.  Nothing  in  his 
appearance  suggests  either  the  smear  or  the  burnish  of  a 
town  existence. 

It  is  not  without  significance  that  he  has  gone  farther 
afield  from  Oxford  City  than  any  other  of  its  academic 
citizens,  building  for  himself  a  home  on  a  hill  two  miles 
and  more  from  Magdalen  Bridge,  with  a  garden  about 
it  kept  largely  wild,  and  seats  placed  where  the  eye  can 
travel  farthest. 

This  man,  who  is  so  unpushing  and  self-effacing, 
makes  a  contribution  to  the  Christian  religion  which 
deserves,  I  think,  the  thoughtful  attention  of  his  con- 
temporaries. It  can  be  set  forth  in  a  few  words,  for  his 
faith  is  fastened  in  the  conviction  that  the  universe  is 
far  simpler  than  science — for  the  moment — would  allow 
us  to  think. 

Let  me  explain  at  the  outset  that  Unitarianism  admits 
of  a  certain  diversity  of  faith.  There  are  Unitarians 
who  think  and  speak  only  of  God.  There  are  others  who 
lay  their  insistence  on  the  humanity  of  Jesus,  exalting 
Him  solely  as  the  chief  est  of  teachers.  There  are  others 
who  choose  to  dwell  on  the  uniqueness  of  Jesus,  who  feel 
in  Him  some  precious  but  quite  inexpressible,  certainly 


72  PAINTED  WINDOWS 

quite  indefinable,  spell  of  divinity,  and  who  love  to 
lose  themselves  in  mystical  meditations  concerning  His 
continual  presence  in  the  human  spirit.  Dr.  Jacks,  I 
think,  is  to  be  numbered  among  these  last.  But,  like 
all  other  Unitarians,  he  makes  no  credal  demands  on 
mankind,  save  only  the  one  affirmation  of  their  common 
faith,  with  its  inevitable  ergo :  God  is  Love,  and  there- 
fore to  be  worshipped. 

Robert  Hall  said  to  a  Unitarian  minister  who  always 
baptised ' '  in  the  Name  of  the  Father  and  of  the  Son  and 
of  the  Holy  Ghost,"  attaching  a  very  sacred  meaning  to 
the  words,  "Why,  sir,  as  I  understand  you,  you  must 
consider  that  you  baptise  in  the  name  of  an  abstraction, 
a  man,  and  a  metaphor."  More  simple  was  the  inter- 
pretation of  a  Japanese  who,  after  listening  with  a 
corrugated  brow  to  the  painful  exposition  of  a  recent 
Duke  of  Argyll  concerning  the  Trinity  in  Unity,  and 
the  Unity  in  Trinity,  suddenly  exclaimed  with  radiant 
face,  "Ah,  yes,  I  see,  a  Committee." 

Dr.  Jacks  leaves  these  perplexities  alone.  For  him, 
God  is  the  Universal  Spirit,  the  Absolute  Reality  im- 
manent in  all  phenomena,  the  Love  which  reason  finds 
in  Goodness  and  intuition  discovers  in  Beauty,  the  Fa- 
ther of  men,  the  End  and  the  very  Spirit  of  Evolution. 
And  Jesus,  so  far  as  human  thought  can  reach  into  the 
infinite,  is  the  Messenger  of  God,  the  Revealer  both  of 
God's  Personality  and  man's  immortality,  the  great 
Teacher  of  liberty.  What  else  He  may  be  we  do  not 
know,  but  may  discover  in  other  phases  of  our  ascent. 


DR.  L.  P.  JACKS  73 

Enough  for  the  moment  of  duration  which  we  call 
human  life  to  know  that  He  unlocks  the  door  of  our 
prison-house,  reveals  to  us  the  character  of  our  Father 
which  is  in  Heaven,  and  the  nature  of  the  universe  in 
which  we  move  and  have  our  being. 

If  this  should  appear  vague  to  the  dogmatist  who 
finds  it  impossible  either  to  love  God  or  to  do  the  will 
of  Christ  without  going  into  the  arithmetic  of  Athana- 
sius,  and  reciting  an  unintelligible  creed,  and  celebrat- 
ing in  Christian  forms  the  rites  of  those  mystery 
religions  which  competed  with  each  other  for  the  super- 
stition of  the  Grasco-Roman  world  in  the  third  century, 
he  will  find  no  vagueness  at  all  in  Dr.  Jacks's  interpreta- 
tion of  the  teaching  of  Jesus.  He  may  perhaps  find  in 
that  interpretation  a  simplicity,  a  clarity,  and  a  direct- 
ness which  are  not  wholly  convenient  to  his  idea  of  a 
God  Who  repents,  is  angry,  and  can  be  mollified. 

Whether  Jesus  was  born  of  a  Virgin  or  not,  whether 
He  raised  dead  bodies  to  life  or  not,  whether  He  Himself 
rose  from  the  grave  with  His  physical  body  or  not,  cer- 
tain is  it,  and  beyond  all  dispute  of  every  conceivable 
kind,  that  He  taught  men  a  way  of  life,  that  He  brought 
them  a  message,  that  He  Himself  regarded  His  message 
as  good  news. 

How  carelessly  men  may  think  in  this  matter  is 
shown  to  us  rather  strikingly  in  a  page  of  Some  Loose 
Stones,  a  book  to  which  reference  has  already  been  made. 
After  writing  about  dogma,  and  endeavouring  to  show 
that  the  traditionalist  is  on  firmer  ground  than  the 


74  PAINTED  WINDOWS 

modernist,  because  he  can  say,  "Here  is  the  Truth," 
while  the  modernist  can  only  say,  "We  will  tell  you 
what  the  truth  is  when  we  have  found  it,"  suddenly, 
with  scarcely  a  draw  of  his  breath.  Father  Knox  ex- 
claims : 

The  real  trouble  is  that  they  (the  modernists)  have 
got  hold  of  the  wrong  end  of  the  stick,  that  they  have 
radically  misconceived  the  whole  nature  of  the  Christian 
message,  which  is,  to  be  one  for  all  minds,  for  all  places, 
for  all  times. 

Note  that  word  message.   What  confusion  of  thought ! 

The  message  of  Christ  is  one  thing ;  paganised  dogma 
concerning  Christ  is  another.  The  message  of  Christ 
does  indeed  remain  for  all  minds,  for  all  places,  for  all 
times,  inexhaustible  in  its  meaning,  unalterable  in  its 
nature;  the  dogmas  of  theology,  on  the  other  hand,  de- 
mand Councils  of  the  Church  for  their  definition,  and 
an  infallible  Pope  for  their  interpretation .  They  change, 
have  changed  even  in  the  unchangeable  Catholic 
Church,  and  will  change  with  every  advance  of  the 
positive  sciences  and  with  every  ascent  of  philosophy 
towards  reality ;  but  the  message  stands,  plain  to  the 
understanding  of  a  child,  yet  still  rejected  by  the 
world.  Christianity,  as  Dr.  Jacks  says,  has  been  more 
studied  than  practised. 

How  far  quarrelling  theologians  and  uncharitable 
Chiu*ches  are  responsible  for  that  rejection,  let  the 
conscience  of  the  traditionalist  (if  he  happen  to  know 
history)  decide. 


DR.  L.  P.  JACKS  75 

As  for  the  message,  here  is  a  reading  of  it  by  a  Uni- 
tarian— a  reading,  I  venture  to  say,  for  all  minds,  for  all 
places,  for  all  times — a  reading  which  stands  clear  of 
controversial  theology,  and  which,  in  spite  of  its  pro- 
fundity, is  a  message  for  the  simple  as  well  as  for  the 
learned. 

Christianity  is  man's  passport  from  illusion  into 
reality.  It  reveals  to  him  that  he  is  not  in  the  world 
to  set  the  world  right,  but  to  see  it  right.  He  is  not  a 
criminal  and  earth  is  not  a  Borstal  Institution.  Nature 
is  the  handiwork  of  a  Father.  Look  deeply  into  that 
handiwork  and  it  reveals  a  threefold  tendency — the 
tendency  towards  goodness,  the  tendency  towards 
beauty,  the  tendency  towards  truth.  Ally  yourself 
with  these  tendencies,  make  yourself  a  growing  and 
developing  intelHgence,  and  you  inhabit  spiritual  reality. 

Study  the  manner  of  Jesus,  His  attitude  to  the  sim- 
plest and  most  domestic  matters,  the  love  He  mani- 
fested, and  the  objects  for  which  He  manifested  that 
love.  These  things  have  "a  deeper  significance  than 
our  pensive  theologies  have  dared  to  find  in  them. 
.  .  .  They  belong  not  to  the  fringe  of  Christianity 
but  to  its  essence."    Christ  loved  the  world. 

His  religion,  which  has  come  to  stand  for  repression 
founded  on  an  almost  angry  distrust  of  human  nature, 
is  in  fact  "the  most  encouraging,  the  most  joyous,  the 
least  repressive,  and  the  least  forbidding  of  all  the  re- 
ligions of  the  world."  It  does  not  fear  the  world,  it 
masters  it.     It  does  not  seek  to  escape  from  life,  it 


76  PAINTED  WINDOWS 

develops  a  truer  and  more  abundant  life.    It  places  itself 
at  the  head  of  evolution. 

There  are  points  on  its  path  where  it  enters  the 
shadows  and  even  descends  into  hell,  for  it  is  a  religion 
of  redemption,  the  religion  of  the  shepherd  seeking  the 
lost  sheep,  but  "the  end  of  it  all  is  a  resurrection  and  not 
a  burial,  a  festival  and  not  a  funeral,  an  ascent  into  the 
heights  and  not  a  lingering  in  the  depths." 

Nowhere  else  is  the  genius  of  the  Christian  Religion 
so  poignantly  revealed  than  in  the  Parable  of  the  Prodi- 
gal Son,  which  begins  in  the  minor  key  and  gradually  rises 
to  the  major,  until  it  culminates  in  a  great  merry-making, 
to  the  surprise  of  the  Elder  Son,  who  thinks  the  majesty 
of  the  moral  law  will  be  compromised  by  the  music  and 
dancing,  and  has  to  be  reminded  that  these  joyous  sounds 
are  the  keynotes  of  the  spiritual  world. 

Dr.  Jacks  well  says  that  we  should  be  nearer  the 
truth  if,  instead  of  thinking  how  we  can  adapt  this  re- 
ligion to  the  minds  of  the  young,  we  regarded  it  as 
"originally  a  religion  of  the  young  which  has  lost  some 
of  its  savour  by  being  adapted  to  the  minds  of  the  old." 

Then  he  reminds  us  that  it  was  "in  the  form  of  a 
person  that  the  radiance  of  Christianity  made  its  first 
appearance  and  its  first  impression  on  the  world."  A 
Light  came  into  the  world. 

The  Jesus  of  history  drew  men  to  Him  by  an  inward 
beauty.  His  serenity  gave  the  sick  and  the  suffering 
an  almost  riotous  confidence  that  He  could  heal  them. 
His  radiance  attracted  children  to  His  side.    He  was 


DR.  L.  P.  JACKS  77 

fond  of  choosing  a  child  for  the  sublimest  of  teachings. 
He  made  it  clear  that  entrance  into  the  Kingdom  of 
Heaven  is  easiest  to  those  who  are  least  deluded  or  en- 
chained by  appearances,  and  hardest  to  those  whose 
hearts  He  in  their  possessions.  The  Kingdom  of  Heaven 
signifies  freedom. 

He  was  the  great  teacher  of  the  poverty  of  riches,  and 
the  wealth  of  nothingness.  He  knew  as  no  other  had 
ever  known,  and  saw  as  no  other  had  ever  seen,  the 
symboHsm  of  nature.  Always  His  vision  pierced  behind 
the  appearance  to  the  thing  in  itself.  He  loved  "the 
reality  that  abides  beyond  the  shadows."  He  directed 
our  spiritual  vision  to  this  reality,  telling  us  that  the 
soul  makes  a  natural  response  "to  a  world  built  on  the 
same  heavenly  pattern  with  itself  and  aglow  with  the 
same  immortal  fire."  He  taught  that  joy  is  a  thing  of 
the  spirit.  He  made  it  plain  that  loss,  disillusion,  and 
defeat  are  the  penalty  of  affections  set  on  the  outside  of 
things.    The  materialist  is  in  prison. 

He  did  not  condemn  the  earth;  He  taught  that  its 
true  loveliness  is  to  be  discerned  only  by  the  spiritual 
eye.  For  Him  the  earth  was  a  symbol,  and  the  whole 
realm  of  nature  a  parable. 

I  cannot  but  think  that  we  are  never  further  from 
the  genius  of  the  Christian  religion  than  when  we  treat 
this  luminous  atmosphere  as  though  it  were  a  foreign 
envelope,  of  little  account  so  long  as  the  substance  it 
enshrines  is  retained  intact.  Without  it,  the  substance, 
no  matter  how  simple  or  how  complex,  becomes  a  dry 
formula,  dead  as  the  moon. 


78  PAINTED  WINDOWS 

Losing  the  radiance  we  lose  at  the  same  time  the 
central  light  from  which  the  radiance  springs,  and  our 
religion,  instead  of  transforming  the  corruptible  world 
into  its  incorruptible  equivalents,  reverts  to  the  type  it 
was  intended  to  supersede  and  becomes  a  mere  safeguard 
to  the  moral  law. 

Nothing  can  allay  our  present  discords  and  the  long 
confusions  of  the  world,  short  of  "those  radiant  con- 
ceptions of  God,  of  man,  of  the  universe,  which  are  the 
life  and  essence  of  Christianity," 

"Liberty,"  says  Edouard  Le  Roy,  "is  rare;  many 
live  and  die  and  have  never  known  it."  And  Bergson 
says,  "We  are  free  when  our  acts  proceed  from  our 
entire  personality,  when  they  express  it,  when  they 
exhibit  that  indefinable  resemblance  to  it  which  we  find 
occasionally  between  the  artist  and  his  work." 

This,  I  think,  is  what  Dr.  Jacks  means  when  he 
speaks  of  Christianity  bestowing  liberty — a  new  mas- 
tery over  fate  and  circumstance.  It  calls  forth  not  only 
the  affection  of  a  man,  and  not  only  the  intelligence  of  a 
man,  but  the  whole  of  his  intuitions  as  well.  The  entire 
personality,  the  entire  field  of  consciousness,  the  entire 
mystery  of  the  ego,  is  bidden  to  throw  itself  upon  the 
universe  with  confidence,  with  gratitude,  with  love  un- 
speakable, recognising  there  the  act  of  a  Fatherhood  of 
which,  in  its  highest  moments,  the  soul  is  conscious  in 
itself. 

Thus  is  man  made  free  of  illusion.  No  longer  can  the 
outside  of  things  deceive  him,  or  the  defeats  of  the 
higher  by  the  lower  deject,  much  less  overwhelm  him. 


DR.  L.  P.  JACKS  79 

He  sees  the  reality  behind  the  appearance.  He  dwells 
with  powers  which  are  invisible  and  eternal — with 
justice,  with  virtue,  with  beauty,  with  truth,  with  love, 
with  excellence.  More  to  him  than  any  house  built  with 
hands,  more,  much  more  even  than  the  habitation  of  his 
own  soul,  is  the  invisible  life  of  that  soul,  its  delight  in 
beauty,  its  immediate  response  to  truth  and  goodness, 
its  longing  for  the  flight  of  the  One  to  the  One,  its  almost 
athletic  sense  of  spiritual  fitness. 

Dr.  Jacks  will  have  no  element  of  fear  in  this  religion. 
He  finds  no  room  in  the  universe  for  an  offended  God. 
Belief  in  God  can  mean  nothing  else  but  love  of  God. 
All  our  troubles  have  come  upon  us  from  the  failure  of 
the  Church  to  live  in  the  radiant  atmosphere  of  this 
belief,  to  make  belief  a  life,  a  life  that  needs  no  dogmas 
and  expresses  itself  by  love. 

But  this  was  not  to  be.  The  Church  cultivated  fear 
of  God,  and  could  not  bring  itself  to  trust  human 
nature. 

Belief  passed  into  dogma;  the  mind  of  man  was  put 
in  fetters  as  well  as  his  body ;  the  Church  built  one  prison 
and  the  State  another.  .  .  .  All  this  was  closely  con- 
nected with  the  idea  of  the  potentate  God  which  Church 
and  State,  in  C9nsequence  of  their  political  alliance,  had 
restored,  against  the  martyr  protest  of  Jesus  Christ. 

But  how  should  man  be  treated?  Here  it  is  that  Dr. 
Jacks  makes  a  most  valuable  suggestion : 

Treat  man,  after  the  mind  of  Christ,  as  a  being  whose 
first  need  is  for  Light,  and  whose  second  need  is  for 


80  PAINTED  WINDOWS 

government,  and  you  will  find  that  as  his  need  for  light 
is  progressively  satisfied,  his  need  for  government  will 
progressively  diminish. 

Is  it  not  a  significant  fact  that  while  the  churches  are 
complaining  of  emptiness,  the  schools,  the  colleges,  the 
universities,  are  packed  to  overflowing? 

Dr.  Jacks  has  asked  quite  recently  a  Frenchman,  a 
Swede,  a  Dutchman,  an  American,  a  Chinaman,  and  a 
Japanese,  "What  is  the  leading  interest  in  your  coun- 
try? What  do  your  people  really  believe  in?"  The 
answer  in  each  case  was,  "Education." 

When  he  varied  his  question,  and  asked,  "What 
have  you  learnt  from  the  war?"  the  answer  came,  "We 
have  learnt  our  need  of  education," 

Some  would  prefer  them  to  have  said:  "We  have 
learnt  our  need  of  Christianity."  But  is  it  not  the  same 
thing  ?  In  grasping  the  vast  potentialities  of  the  human 
spirit,  and  that  is  what  this  hunger  for  education  means, 
have  they  not  grasped  an  essential  characteristic  of  the 
Christian  religion  and  placed  themselves  at  its  very 
growing  point  ? 

Education  is  Light,  and  Light  is  from  God. 

Dr.  Jacks  believes  that  a  movement  has  begun  which, 
"if  it  develops  according  to  promise,  will  grow  into  the 
most  impassioned  enterprise  so  far  undertaken  by  man." 

The  struggle  for  light,  with  its  wide  fellowships  and 
high  enthusiasms,  will  displace  the  struggle  for  power, 
with  its  mean  passions,  its  monstrous  illusions,  and  its 
contemptible  ideals. 

The  struggle  for  power  will  end,  not,  as  some  predict, 


DR.  L.  P.  JACKS  8i 

in  universal  revolution,  which  would  merely  set  it  going 
again  in  another  form,  but  by  being  submerged,  lost 
sight  of,  snowed  under,  by  the  greater  interests  that  cen- 
tre round  the  struggle  for  light. 

I  say  these  things  will  happen.     But  they  will  not 
happen  unless  men  are  sufficiently  resolved  that  they  . 
shall. 

Let  the  reader  remember  that  those  who  now  flock 
to  the  schoolmaster  are  less  likely  than  men  of  the  pre- 
vious generation  to  fall  into  the  pit  of  materialism. 
They  begin  at  a  point  which  the  previous  generation  did 
not  believe  to  exist — a  visible  world  reduced  by  positive 
science  to  the  invisible  world  of  philosophy.  They  con- 
front not  a  quantitative  universe,  but  a  qualitative. 
They  almost  begin  at  the  very  spirit  of  man ;  they  can- 
not advance  far  before  they  find  themselves  groping  in 
the  unseen,  and  using,  not  the  senses  given  to  us  by 
action,  but  the  eyes  and  ears  of  the  understanding  by 
which  alone  the  soul  of  man  can  apprehend  reality. 
Even  the  Germans  have  gone  back  to  Goethe. 

This,  then,  is  the  contribution  which  Dr.  Jacks 
makes  to  modern  thought.  We  are  to  consider  man  as 
a  creature  of  boundless  potentiality,  to  realise  that  his 
first  need  is  for  light,  and  to  define  that  mystic  all-im- 
portant word  in  terms  of  education.  Christianity  was 
not  concerned  with  the  moral  law ;  it  was  concerned  with 
the  transcending  of  all  law  by  the  spirit  of  under- 
standing. 

I  need  not  guard  myself  against  the  supposition  that 
so  true  a  scholar  is  satisfied  with  the  system  of  education 


82  PAINTED  WINDOWS 

which  exists  at  the  present  time.  Dr.  Jacks  looks  for  a 
reform  of  this  system,  but  not  from  the  present  race  of 
politicians. 

"How  can  we  hope  to  get  a  true  system  of  education 
from  poHtics  ? "  he  asked  me.  ' '  Is  there  any  atmosphere 
more  degrading?  Plato  has  warned  us  that  no  man  is 
fit  to  govern  until  he  has  ceased  to  desire  power.  But 
these  men  think  of  nothing  else.  To  be  in  power;  that 
is  the  game  of  politics.  What  can  you  expect  from  such 
people?" 

He  said  to  me,  "Men  outside  politics  are  beginning 
to  see  what  education  involves.  It  involves  the  whole 
man,  body,  mind,  spirit.  I  do  not  think  you  can  frame 
an  intelligent  definition  of  education  without  coming  up 
against  religion.  In  its  simplest  expression,  education  is 
a  desire  to  escape  from  darkness  into  light.  It  is  fear  of 
ignorance,  and  faith  in  knowledge.  At  the  present  time, 
most  people  have  escaped  from  darkness  into  twilight ; 
a  twilight  which  is  neither  one  thing  nor  the  other.  But 
they  will  never  rest  there.  The  quest  of  the  human 
spirit  is  Goethe's  dying  cry.  Light — more  Light.  And 
it  is  from  these  men  that  I  look  to  get  a  nobler  system  of 
education.  They  will  compel  the  politicians  to  act, 
perhaps  get  rid  of  the  present  race  of  politicians  alto- 
gether. And  when  these  humble  disciples  of  knowledge, 
who  are  now  making  heroic  efforts  to  escape  from  the 
darkness  of  ignorance,  frame  their  definition  of  educa- 
tion, I  am  sure  it  will  include  reUgion.  The  Spirit  of  Man 
needs  only  to  be  liberated  to  recognise  the  Spirit  of  God." 


DR.  L.  P.  JACKS  83 

Most  people,  I  think,  will  agree  with  Dr.  Jacks  in 
these  opinions;  they  are  intelligent  and  promise  a 
reasonable  way  out  of  our  present  chaos.  For  many 
they  will  shed  a  new  light  on  their  old  ideas  of  both 
religion  and  education.  But  some  will  ask:  What  is 
the  Unitarian  Church  doing  to  make  these  intelligent 
opinions  prevail  ? 

Dr.  Jacks  confesses  to  me  that  there  is  no  zeal  of 
propaganda  in  the  Unitarian  communion.  It  is  a  society 
of  people  which  does  not  thrust  itself  upon  the  notice  of 
men,  does  not  compete  for  converts  with  other  churches 
in  the  market-place.  It  is  rather  a  little  temple  of 
peace  round  the  corner,  to  which  people,  who  are  aweary 
of  the  din  in  the  theological  market-place,  may  make 
their  way  if  they  choose.  It  is  such  a  Church  as  War- 
burton,  to  the  great  joy  of  Edward  FitzGerald,  likened 
to  Noah's  family  in  the  Ark: 

The  Church,  like  the  Ark  of  Noah,  is  worth  saving; 
not  for  the  sake  of  the  unclean  beasts  that  almost  filled 
it  and  probably  made  most  noise  and  clamour  in  it,  but 
for  the  little  corner  of  rationality  that  was  as  much  dis- 
tressed by  the  stink  within  as  by  the  tempest  without. 

It  is  significant  of  the  modesty  of  the  Unitarian 
that  he  does  not  emerge  from  this  retirement  even  to 
cry,  "I  told  you  so,"  to  a  Church  which  is  coming  more 
and  more  to  accept  the  simplicity  of  his  once  ridiculed 
and  anathematised  theology. 

"You  must  regard  modernism,"  I  said  to  Dr.  Jacks 


84  PAINTED  WINDOWS 

on  one  occasion,  "as  a  vindication  of  the  Unitarian 
attitude." 

He  smiled  and  made  answer,  "Better  not  say  so. 
Let  them  follow  their  own  line." 

No  man  was  ever  less  of  a  proselytiser.  In  his  re- 
markable book  From  Authority  to  Freedom,  in  which 
he  tells  the  story  of  Charles  Hargrove's  rehgious  pil- 
grimage, he  seems  to  be  standing  aside  from  all  human 
intervention,  watching  with  patient  eyes  the  action  of 
the  Spirit  of  God  on  the  hearts  and  consciences  of  men. 
And  in  that  little  masterpiece  of  deep  thought  and 
beautiful  writing,  The  Lost  Radiance  of  the  Christian 
Religion,  from  which  I  have  made  most  of  the  quota- 
tions in  this  chapter,  one  is  conscious  throughout  of  a 
strong  aversion  from  the  field  of  dogma  and  controversy, 
of  deliberate  determination  of  the  writer  to  keep  himself 
in  the  pure  region  of  the  spirit. 

Christianity,  he  tells  us  there,  has  seen  many  cor- 
ruptions, but  the  most  serious  of  all  is  not  to  be  found 
in  any  list  of  doctrines  that  have  gone  wrong : 

We  find  it  rather  in  a  change  of  atmosphere,  in  a  loss 
of  brightness  and  radiant  energy,  in  a  tendency  to  revert 
in  spirit,  if  not  in  terminology,  to  much  colder  conceptions 
of  God,  of  man,  and  of  the  universe. 

"As  man  in  his  innermost  nature  is  a  far  higher  being 
than  he  seems,  so  the  world  in  its  innermost  nature  is  a 
far  nobler  fabric  than  it  seems."  To  discover  this  man 
must  live  in  his  spirit. 


DR.  L.  P.  JACKS  85 

"God,"  said  Jesus,  "is  Spirit,"  and  it  is  a  definition  of 
God  which  goes  behind  and  beneath  all  the  other  names 
that  are  applied  to  Him.    .    .    . 

The  spirit  is  love;  it  is  peace;  it  is  joy;  and  perhaps 
joy  most  of  all.  It  is  a  joyous  energy,  having  a  centre  in 
the  soul  of  man. 

It  is  not  a  foreign  principle  which  has  to  be  introduced 
into  a  man  from  without ;  it  belongs  to  the  substance  and 
structure  of  his  nature ;  it  needs  only  to  be  liberated  there ; 
and  when  once  that  is  done  it  takes  possession  of  all  the 
forces  of  his  being,  repressing  nothing,  but  transfiguring 
everything,  till  all  his  motives  and  desires  are  akindle  and 
aglow  with  the  fires  and  energy  of  that  central  flame, 
with  its  love,  its  peace,  its  joy. 

A  man  who  sees  so  deeply  into  the  truth  of  things, 
and  lives  so  habitually  at  the  centre  of  existence,  is  not 
likely  to  display  the  characteristics  of  the  propagandist. 
But  the  work  of  Dr.  Jacks  at  Manchester  College  may 
yet  give  not  only  this  country  but  the  world — for  his 
students  come  from  many  nations — a  little  band  of 
radiant  missionaries  whose  message  will  repel  none  and 
attract  many. 


BISHOP  HENSLEY  HENSON 

Durham,  Bishop  of,  since  1920;  Rt.  Rev.  Herbert  Hensley  Henson; 
b.  London  8th  Nov.,  1863,  4th  s.  of  Late  Thomas  Henson,  Broadstairs 
Kent,  and  Martha  Fear;  m.  1902  Isabella  Caroline,  o.  d.  of  J.  W.  Dennis- 
toun  of  Dennistoun,  N.  B.  Educ:  Privately  and  at  Oxford.  First 
Class  Modem  History;  Fellow  of  All  Soul's  College,  Oxford,  1884-91, 
reelected  1896;  B.D.  1898;  Hon.  D.D.  Glasgow,  1906;  Durham,  1913; 
Oxon,  191 8;  Head  of  the  Oxford  House,  Bethnal  Green,  1887-88; 
Vicar  of  Barking,  Essex,  1888-95,  Select  Preacher  at  Oxford,  1895-96, 
19 1 3-14;  Cambridge,  1901;  Incumbent  of  St.  Mary's  Hospital,  Ilford, 
1895-1900;  Chaplain  to  Lord  Bishop  of  St.  Alban's,  1897-1900;  Canon 
of  Westminster  Abbey  and  Rector  of  St.  Margaret's,  1900-12;  Sub- 
Dean  of  Westminster,  1911-12;  Dean  of  Durham,  1912-18;  Bishop  of 
Durham,  1918-20;  late  Hon.  Professor  of  Modem  History  in  Durham 
University;  Proctor  in  Convocation,  1903-18. 


BISHOP  HENSLEY   HENSON 


CHAPTER  V 

BISHOP  HENSLEY  HENSON 

He  early  attained  a  high  development^  hut  he  has  not  in- 
creased it  since;  years  have  come,  hut  they  have  whispered 
little;  as  was  said  of  the  second  Pitt,  "He  never  grew,  he 
was  cast." — Walter  Bagehot. 

Rumour  has  it  that  Dr.  Henson  is  beginning  to  draw 
in  his  horns.  Every  curate  who  finds  himself  unable 
to  believe  in  the  Virgin  Birth,  so  it  said,  feels  himself 
entitled  to  a  living  in  the  diocese  of  Durham.  They 
flee  from  the  intolerant  zealotry  of  the  sacerdotal 
south  to  the  genial  modernism  of  the  latitudinarian 
north. 

But  the  trouble  is,  so  rumour  has  it,  these  intelligent 
curates  prove  themselves  but  indifferent  parish  priests. 
Dr.  Henson  has  to  complain.  The  work  of  the  Church 
must  be  carried  on.  Evangelicalism  seems  a  better 
driving  force  than  theology.  Dr.  Henson  has  to  think 
whether  perhaps   .    .    . 

One  need  not  stop  to  ask  if  this  version  is  strictly 
true.  The  fact  seems  to  emerge  that  the  Bishop  of 
Durham,  one  of  the  ablest  intellects  in  the  Church  of 
England,  and  hitherto  one  of  the  strongest  pillars  of 

89 


90  PAINTED  WINDOWS 

modernism,  is  beginning  to  speak  theologically  with 
rather  less  decision. 

Let  us  at  least  express  the  pious  hope  that  the  Dean 
of  Durham,  Dr.  Welldon,  has  had  nothing  to  do  with  it. 

A  greater  man  than  Dr.  Henson,  a  greater  scholar 
and  a  profounder  thinker,  has  spoken  to  me  of  this  new 
movement  in  the  Bishop's  mind  with  a  deep  impersonal 
regret.  Modernism  will  go  on ;  but  what  will  happen  to 
Dr.  Henson?  "A  man  may  change  his  mind  once,"  he 
said;  "but  to  change  it  twice " 

The  words  of  Guicciardini  came  into  my  mind, 
"The  most  fatal  of  all  neutralities  is  that  which  results 
not  from  choice,  but  from  irresolution." 

There  is  much  to  be  learned,  I  think,  from  a  study 
of  Dr.  Henson's  personality.  He  stands  for  the  mo- 
ment at  a  parting  of  the  ways,  and  it  will  be  interesting 
to  see  which  road  he  intends  to  take;  but  the  major 
interest  Hes  in  his  abiding  psychology,  and  no  change  in 
theological  opinions  will  affect  that  psychology  at  all. 
Attach  to  him  the  label  of  "modernist"  or  the  label  of 
"traditionalist,"  and  it  will  still  be  the  same  Httle  eager 
man  thrusting  his  way  forward  on  either  road  with 
downward  head  and  peering  eyes,  arguing  with  anyone 
who  gets  in  his  way,  and  loving  his  argument  far  more 
than  his  way. 

When  he  was  at  Oxford,  and  was  often  in  controver- 
sial conflict  with  Dr.  A.  C.  Headlam,  now  Regius  Pro- 
fessor of  Divinity,  Dr.  Hensley  Henson  earned  the 
nickname  of  Coxley  Cocksure.     Never  was  any  man 


BISHOP  HENSLEY  HENSON  91 

more  certain  he  was  right ;  never  was  any  man  more  in- 
clined to  ridicule  the  bare  idea  that  his  opponent  could 
be  anything  but  wrong;  and  never  was  any  man  more 
thoroughly  happy  in  making  use  of  a  singularly  trench- 
ant intellect  to  stab  and  thrust  its  triiimphant  way 
through  the  logic  of  his  adversary. 

It  is  said  that  Dr.  Henson  has  had  to  fight  his  way 
into  notice,  and  that  he  has  never  lost  the  defect  of 
those  qualities  which  enabled  him  so  victoriously  to 
reach  the  mitred  top  of  the  ecclesiastical  tree.  He  has 
climbed.  He  has  loved  climbing.  Perhaps  he  has  so 
got  into  this  bracing  habit  that  he  may  even  "climb 
down,"  if  only  in  order  once  more  to  ascend — a  new 
rendering  of  reculer  pour  mieux  sauter.  I  do  not  think 
he  has  much  altered  since  he  first  set  out  to  conquer 
fortune  by  the  force  of  his  intellect,  an  intellect  of 
whose  great  qualities  he  has  always  been  perhaps  a 
little  dangerously  self-conscious. 

Few  men  are  more  effective  in  soliloquy.  It  is  a 
memorable  sight  to  see  him  standing  with  his  back  to 
one  of  the  high  stone  mantelpieces  in  Durham  Castle, 
his  feet  wide  apart  on  the  hearth-rug,  his  hands  in  the 
openings  of  his  apron,  his  trim  and  dapper  body  swaying 
ceaselessly  from  the  waist,  his  head,  with  its  smooth 
boyish  hair,  bending  constantly  forward,  jerking  every 
now  and  then  to  emphasise  a  point  in  his  argument,  the 
light  in  his  bright,  watchful,  sometimes  mischievous 
eyes  dancing  to  the  joy  of  his  own  voice,  the  thin  lips 
working  with  pleasure  as  they  give  to  all  his  words  the 


92  PAINTED  WINDOWS 

fullest  possible  value  of  vowels  and  sibilants,  the  small 
greyish  face,  with  its  two  slightly  protruding  teeth  on 
the  lower  lip,  almost  quivering,  almost  glowing,  with 
the  rhythm  of  his  sentences  and  the  orderly  sequence  of 
his  logic.  All  this  composes  a  picture  which  one  does 
not  easily  forget.  It  is  like  the  harangue  of  a  snake, 
which  is  more  subtle  than  any  beast  of  the  field.  One 
is  conscious  of  a  spell. 

The  dark  tapestried  room,  the  carved  ceiling,  the 
heavy  furniture,  the  embrasured  windows,  the  whole 
sombre  magnificence  of  the  historic  setting,  quiet, 
almost  somnolent,  with  the  enduring  memories  of 
Cuthbert  Tunstall  and  Butler,  Lightfoot  and  Westcott, 
add  a  most  telling  vivacity  to  the  slim  and  dominating 
figure  of  this  boylike  bishop,  who  is  so  athletic  in  the 
use  of  his  intellect  and  so  happy  in  every  thesis  he  sets 
himself  to  establish. 

It  is  an  equally  memorable  sight  to  see  him  in  his 
castle  at  Bishop  Auckland  in  the  role  of  host,  entertain- 
ing people  of  intelligence  with  the  history  of  the  place, 
showing  the  pictures  and  the  chapel,  exhibiting  curious 
relics  of  the  past — a  restless  and  energetic  figure,  holding 
its  own  in  effectiveness  against  men  of  greater  stature 
and  more  commanding  presence  by  an  inward  force 
which  has  something  of  the  tang  of  a  twitching  bow- 
string. 

So  much  energy  would  suggest  a  source  of  almost 
inexhaustible  power.  But  that  is  perhaps  the  greatest 
disappointment  of  all  in  the  Bishop's  psychology.    In 


BISHOP  HENSLEY  HENSON  93 

the  case  of  Dr.  Inge  one  is  very  conscious  of  a  rich  and 
deep  background,  a  background  of  mysticism,  from 
which  the  intellect  emerges  with  slow  emphasis  to  play 
its  part  on  the  world's  stage.  In  the  case  of  Bishop  Ryle 
one  is  conscious  behind  the  pleasant,  courtierlike,  and 
scholarly  manner  of  a  background  of  very  wholesome 
and  unquestioning  moral  earnestness.  But  in  Dr. 
Henson  one  is  conscious  of  nothing  behind  the  intellect 
but  intellect  itself,  an  intellect  which  has  absorbed  his 
spiritual  life  into  itself  and  will  permit  no  other  tenant 
of  his  mind  to  divert  attention  for  a  single  moment  from 
its  luminous  brilliance,  its  perfection  of  mechanism. 

One  may  be  quite  wrong,  of  course;  one  can  speak 
only  of  the  impression  which  he  makes  upon  oneself 
and  perhaps  a  few  of  one's  friends ;  but  it  would  almost 
seem  as  if  he  had  ever  regarded  Christianity  as  a  thesis 
to  be  argued,  not  a  religion  to  be  preached,  a  principle 
to  be  enunciated,  not  a  practice  to  be  extended,  a  tradi- 
tion to  be  maintained,  not  a  passion  to  be  communicated. 

Yet  his  sermons,  which  a  great  Anglo-CathoHc  de- 
clared to  me  with  a  mocking  mordancy  to  be  full  of 
"edification,"  do  often  enter  that  region  of  religion 
which  seems  to  demand  an  appeal  to  the  emotions; 
moreover,  it  is  not  to  be  thought  for  a  moment  that  the 
Bishop  is  not  deeply  concerned  with  all  moral  questions, 
that  he  is  in  the  least  degree  indifferent  to  the  high  im- 
portance of  conduct.  But  for  myself  these  excursions, 
earnest  and  well-intentioned  as  they  are,  proclaim  rather 
the  social  energy  of  the  good  citizen  than  the  fervent 


94  PAINTED  WINDOWS 

zeal  of  an  apostle  on  fire  with  his  Master's  message. 
The  evangelicalism  of  the  Bishop  has  taken,  as  it  were, 
the  cast  of  politics,  and  he  enters  the  pulpit  of  Christ 
to  proclaim  the  reasonableness  of  the  moral  law  with 
the  alacrity  of  the  lecturer. 

This  is  what  makes  him  so  interesting  a  study  for 
those  curious  about  the  workings  of  religious  psychol- 
ogy. Here  is  a  thoroughly  good  man,  as  fearless  and 
upright  as  any  man  in  the  kingdom,  a  figure  among 
scholars,  a  power  among  organisers,  a  very  able,  sincere, 
and  trenchant  personality,  who  has  thrown  the  whole 
weight  of  all  he  has  to  give  on  the  side  of  Christianity, 
but  who,  for  some  reason,  in  despite  of  all  his  hard  work 
and  unquestionable  earnestness,  does  not  convey  any 
idea  of  the  attraction  of  Christ. 

It  makes  one  doubt,  not  that  the  Bishop  has  re- 
served his  feelings  for  another  affection,  but  whether 
he  has  any  feelings  to  bestow.  One  thinks  that  he  has 
drawn  up  and  concentrated  so  effectually  all  the  forces 
of  his  personality  into  the  intellect  that  it  is  now  impos- 
sible for  him  to  see  religion  except  as  an  intellectual 
problem.  One  thinks,  too,  that  he  has  never  dreamed 
of  converting  other  people  to  his  views,  but  only  of 
arguing  them  out  of  theirs.  Yet,  after  all,  there  are 
more  ways  of  converting  the  world  than  beating  a  drum. 

I  am  certain,  however,  that  he  could  easier  convince 
a  socialistic  collier  or  a  communistic  iron-moulder  of  the 
absurdity  of  his  economics  than  persuade  either  the  one 
or  the  other  of  the  spiritual  satisfaction  of  his  own  re- 


BISHOP  HENSLEY  HENSON  95 

ligion.  Perhaps  religion  presents  itself  to  the  Bishop, 
as  it  does  to  a  great  number  of  other  people,  as  a  conse- 
cration of  moral  law,  and  clearly  moral  law  is  something 
to  be  established  by  reason,  not  commended  by  appeals 
to  the  sentiments;  not  for  one  moment,  all  the  same, 
would  he  coimtenance  the  famous  cynicism  of  Gibbon — 
"The  various  modes  of  worship,  which  prevailed  in 
the  Roman  world,  were  all  considered  by  the  peo- 
ple as  equally  true;  by  the  philosophers  as  equally 
false;  and  by  the  magistrate  as  equally  useful" — 
for  no  man  sees  more  clearly  the  permanent  need  of 
religion  in  the  human  spirit,  and  no  man  is  more  sin- 
cerely convinced  of  the  truth  of  the  Christian  religion. 
But  he  brings  to  religion,  as  I  think,  only  his  intellect, 
and  so  he  has  intellectualised  its  ethic,  and  has  left  its 
deepest  meaning  to  those  who  possess,  what  he  has 
either  always  lacked  or  has  forfeited  in  his  intellectual 
discipleship,  the  qualities  of  mysticism. 

One  might  almost  say  that  he  has  intellectualised 
the  Sermon  on  the  Mount,  dissected  the  Prodigal  Son 
as  a  study  in  psychology,  and  taken  the  heart  out  of  the 
Fourth  Gospel. 

His  usefulness,  however,  is  of  a  high  order.  With  the 
sole  exception  of  Dean  Inge,  no  front  bench  Church- 
man has  displayed  a  more  admirable  courage  in  con- 
fronting democracy  and  challenging  its  Materialistic 
politics.  Moreover,  although  he  modestly  doubts  his 
effectiveness  as  a  public  speaker,  he  has  shown  an  acute 
judgment  in  these  attacks  which  has  not  been  lost  upon 


96  PAINTED  WINDOWS 

the  steadier  minds  in  the  Labour  world  of  the  north. 
Perhaps  he  has  done  as  much  as  any  man  up  there  to 
convince  an  embittered  and  disillusioned  proletariat  that 
it  must  accept  the  inevitable  rulings  of  economic  law. 

His  courage  in  this  matter  is  all  the  more  praise- 
worthy because  he  seems  to  be  convinced,  to  speak  in 
general  terms,  that  the  religion  of  Christ  is  now  rejected 
by  the  democracy.  It  needs,  therefore,  great  strength 
of  mind  to  face  a  body  of  men  who  have  lost  all  interest 
in  his  religion,  and  to  address  them  not  only  as  econo- 
mist and  historian  but  as  one  who  still  believes  that 
Christianity  bestows  a  power  which  sets  at  defiance  all 
the  worst  that  circumstance  and  condition  can  do  to  the 
soul  of  man. 

In  these  addresses  he  puts  aside  the  materialistic 
dreams  of  the  social  reformer  as  impractical  and 
dangerous. 

Ideal  reconstructions  of  society,  pictures  of  "The 
Kingdom  of  God  upon  earth,"  to  use  a  popular  but  peril- 
ous phrase,  are  not  greatly  serviceable  to  human  progress. 
They  may  even  turn  men  aside  from  the  road  of  actual 
progress,  for  the  indulgence  of  philanthropic  imagination 
neither  strengthens  the  will  in  self-sacrifice,  nor  illumines 
the  practical  judgment. 

His  argument  then  leads  him  to  question  the  justifica- 
tion of  the  social  reformer's  oratory.  '  *  Let  us  be  on  our 
guard,"  he  says,  "against  exaggeration." 

I  am  sure  that  great  harm  is  being  done  at  the  present 
time  by  the  reckless  denunciation  of  the  existing  social 


BISHOP  HENSLEY  HENSON  97 

order,  often  by  men  who  have  no  special  knowledge  either 
of  the  history  of  society,  or  of  the  present  situation. 
Hypnotised  by  their  own  enthusiasm,  they  allow  them- 
selves to  use  language  which  is  not  only  altogether  ex- 
cessive, but  also  highly  inflammatory.  I  am  bound 
honestly  to  say  that  I  think  some  of  the  clergy  are  great 
offenders  in  this  respect.  Having  created  or  stimulated 
popular  discontent  by  such  rhetorical  exaggeration,  they 
point  to  the  discontent  as  itself  sufficient  proof  of  the 
existence  of  social  oppression.  They  are  immersed  in  a 
fallacy. 

With  boldness  he  carries  the  war  into  the  camp  of  his 
enemies : 

There  is  much  food  for  thought  in  the  notorious  fact 
that  the  critics  of  existing  society,  so  far  from  being  able 
to  count  upon  the  popular  discontent,  are  compelled  to 
organise  an  elaborate  system  of  defaming  propaganda  in 
order  to  induce  the  multitude  to  beHeve  themselves 
oppressed. 

He  charges  the  social  reformer  with  an  immoral 
idealism.  The  worker  is  encouraged  to  prolong  his 
work,  is  taught  that  he  may  with  perfect  justice  adopt 
the  policy  of  ca'  canny,  seeing  that  his  first  duty  is,  not 
to  his  master,  but  to  his  wife  and  children. 

"Imagine  the  effect  on  character,"  cries  the  Bishop, 
"of  eight  hours'  dishonesty  every  day,  eight  hours  of  a 
man's  second  or  third  best,  never  his  whole  heart  in  his 
job !    And  this  is  called  idealism ! ' ' 

If  industrialism  were  swept  away,  and  some  form  of 
Socialism  were  established,  the  success  of  the  new  order, 


98  PAINTED  WINDOWS 

as  of  the  old,  would  have  to  turn  on  the  willingness  of  the 
people  honestly  to  work  it.  It  hardly  lies  in  the  mouths 
of  men  who  are  labouring  incessantly  to  obstruct  the 
working  of  the  existing  order,  to  build  an  argument 
against  it  on  the  measure  of  their  success  in  making  it 
fail.  There  are  confessedly  many  grave  evils  in  our 
industrial  system,  but  there  are  also  very  evident  benefits. 
It  is,  like  human  nature  itself,  a  mingled  thing.  Instead 
of  exaggerating  the  evils,  the  wiser  course  would  surely 
be  to  inquire  how  far  they  are  capable  of  remedy,  and 
then  cautiously — for  the  daily  bread  of  these  many 
millions  of  British  folk  depends  on  the  normal  working  of 
our  industrial  system — to  attempt  reforms.  Reckless 
denunciation  is  not  only  wrong  in  itself,  but  it  creates  a 
listless,  disaffected  temper,  the  farthest  removed  possible 
from  the  spirit  of  good  citizenship  and  honest  labour. 

In  these  quotations  you  may  see  something  of  the 
Bishop's  acuteness  of  intellect,  something  of  his  courage, 
and  something  of  his  wholesome  good  sense.  But,  also, 
I  venture  to  think,  one  may  see  in  them  something  of 
his  spiritual  limitations. 

For,  after  all,  is  not  the  Christian  challenged  with  an 
identical  criticism  by  the  champions  of  materialism  ? 

Why  can't  he  leave  people  alone?  Who  asks  him 
to  interfere  with  the  lives  of  other  people — other  people 
who  are  perfectly  contented  to  go  their  own  way? 
Look  at  the  rascal !  Having  created  or  stimulated  spirit- 
ual discontent  by  rhetorical  exaggeration,  he  points  to 
the  discontent  as  itself  sufficient  proof  of  the  dissatis- 
faction of  materialism!  Out  upon  him,  for  a  paid 
agitator,  a  kill-joy,  and  a  humbug.    Let  him  hold  his 


BISHOP  HENSLEY  HENSON  99 

peace,  or,  with  Nietzsche,  consign  these  masses  of  the 
people  "to  the  Devil  and  the  Statistician." 

Might  it  not  be  argued  that  the  Bishop's  attitude 
towards  the  social  reformer  bears  at  least  a  slight  family- 
resemblance  to  the  attitude  of  the  Pharisees  towards 
Christ,  and  of  the  Roman  Power  to  the  earliest  Chris- 
tian communities  ?  May  it  not  be  said,  too,  that  nothing 
is  so  disagreeable  to  a  conservative  mind  as  the  fer- 
mentation induced  by  the  leaven  of  a  new  idea  ? 

Never  does  dissatisfaction  with  the  present  condition 
of  things  appear  in  the  Bishop's  eyes  as  a  creation  of  the 
Christian  spirit,  an  extension  of  that  liberahsing,  en- 
franchising, and  enriching  spirit  which  has  already  de- 
stroyed so  many  of  the  works  of  feudalism.  But  he 
faces  the  question  of  the  part  which  the  Church  must 
play  in  the  world ;  he  faces  it  with  honesty  and  answers 
it  with  shrewdness — 

What  then  is  the  role  of  the  Church  in  such  a  world 
as  this?  Surely  it  is  still  what  it  was  before — to  be  the 
soul  of  society,  "the  salt  of  the  earth."  If  we,  Christ's 
people,  are  carrying  on,  year  in  and  year  out,  a  quiet, 
persistent  witness  by  word  and  life  to  "the  things  that 
are  more  excellent,"  the  unseen  things  which  are  eternal, 
we  too  shall  be  "holding  the  world  together,"  and  opening 
before  society  the  vista  of  a  genuine  progress.  This  is 
the  supreme  and  incommunicable  task  of  the  Church; 
this  is  the  priceless  service  which  we  can  render  to  the 
nation. 

The  position  is  defensible,  for  it  is  one  that  has  been 
held  by  the  saints,  and  dangerous  indeed  is  the  spirit  of 


100  PAINTED  WINDOWS 

materialism  in  the  region  of  social  reform.  But  does  not 
one  miss  from  the  Bishop's  attack  upon  the  social 
reformer  something  much  deeper  than  successful  logic, 
something  which  expresses  itself  in  the  works  of  other 
men  by  the  language  of  sympathy  and  charity,  some- 
thing which  hungers  and  thirsts  to  shed  light  and  to 
give  warmth,  something  which  makes  for  the  eventual 
brotherhood  of  mankind  under  the  divine  Fatherhood 
of  God? 

Some  such  spirit  as  this,  I  think,  is  to  be  found  in  the 
writings  of  Mr.  R.  H.  Tawney,  who,  however  much  he 
may  err  and  go  astray  in  his  economics,  cherishes  at 
least  a  more  seemly  vision  of  the  human  family  than 
that  which  now  passes  for  civilisation.  Is  it  not  possible 
that  the  day  may  come  when  a  gigantic  income  will 
seem  ' '  ungentlemanly "  ?  Is  it  not  a  just  claim,  a  Chris- 
tian claim,  that  the  social  organisation  should  be  based 
upon  "moral  principles"? 

Christians  are  a  sect,  and  a  small  sect,  in  a  Pagan 
Society.  But  they  can  be  a  sincere  sect.  If  they  are 
sincere,  they  will  not  abuse  the  Pagans  .  .  .  for  a 
good  Pagan  is  an  admirable  person.  But  he  is  not  a 
Christian,  for  his  hopes  and  fears,  his  preferences  and  dis- 
likes, his  standards  of  success  and  failure,  are  different 
from  those  of  Christians.  The  Church  will  not  pretend 
that  he  is,  or  endeavour  to  make  its  own  Faith  accept- 
able to  him  by  diluting  the  distinctive  ethical  attributes 
of  Christianity  till  they  become  inoffensive,  at  the  cost 
of  becoming  trivial. 

...  so  tepid  and  self-regarding  a  creed  is  not  a 
religion.     Christianity  cannot  allow  its  sphere  to  be 


BISHOP  HENSLEY  HENSON  loi 

determined  by  the  convenience  of  politicians  or  by  the 
conventional  ethics  of  the  world  of  business.  The  whole 
world  of  human  interests  was  assigned  to  it  as  its  pro- 
vince {The  Acquisitive  Society). 

It  must  not  be  supposed  that  the  Bishop  has  no 
answer  to  this  criticism  of  his  attitude.  He  would  say, 
"Produce  your  socialistic  scheme,  and  I  will  examine  it, 
and  if  it  will  work  and  if  it  is  just  I  will  support  it ;  but 
until  you  have  found  this  scheme,  what  moral  right  do 
you  possess  which  entitles  you  to  unsettle  men's  minds, 
to  fill  their  hearts  with  the  bitterness  of  discontent,  and 
to  turn  the  attention  of  their  souls  away  from  the  things 
that  are  more  excellent?" 

On  this  ground,  the  ground  of  economics,  his  position 
seems  to  me  unassailable;  but  it  is  a  position  which 
suggests  the  posture  of  a  lecturer  in  front  of  his  black- 
board rather  than  that  of  a  shepherd  seeking  the  lost 
sheep  of  his  flock.  If  the  socialist  must  think  again,  at 
least  we  may  ask  that  the  Bishop  should  sometimes  raise 
his  crook  to  defend  the  sheep  against  the  attack  of  the 
robber  and  the  wolf.  If  the  sheep  are  to  be  patient,  if 
they  are  not  to  stray,  if  they  are  not  to  die,  there  must 
be  food  for  their  grazing. 

But  the  Bishop,  at  the  very  roots  of  his  being,  is 
conservative,  and  the  good  qualities  of  conservatism  do 
not  develop  foresight  or  permit  of  vision.  He  would 
stick  to  the  wattled  cotes ;  and  I  think  he  would  move 
his  flock  on  to  new  pastures  as  seldom  as  possible.  This 
will  not  do,  however.     The  social  reformer  tells  the 


102  PAINTED  WINDOWS 

Bishop  who  thinks  democracy  has  rejected  religion  that 
' ' the  hungry  sheep  look  up  and  are  not  fed. "  The  roots 
of  the  old  sustenance  are  nibbled  level  to  the  ground, 
and  the  ground  itself  is  sour.  If  socialism  is  wrong,  let 
the  Bishop  tell  us  where  lies  a  safer  pasture. 

One  seems  to  see  in  this  thrusting  scholar  and  restless 
energetic  prelate  a  very  striking  illustration  of  the  need 
in  the  Christian  of  tenderness.  Intellect  is  not  enough. 
Intellect,  indeed,  is  not  light;  it  is  only  the  wick  of  a 
lamp  which  must  be  fed  constantly  with  the  oil  of  com- 
passion— that  is  to  say,  if  its  light  is  to  shine  before  men. 
The  Bishop  dazzles,  but  he  does  not  illumine  the  dark- 
ness or  throw  a  white  beam  ahead  of  heavy-laden  and 
far-journeying  humanity  on  the  road  which  leads,  let 
us  hope,  to  a  better  order  of  things  than  the  present 
system. 

Whether  such  a  man  calls  himself  traditionalist  or 
modernist  does  not  greatly  matter.  One  respects  him 
for  his  moral  qualities,  his  courage,  and  his  devotion  to 
his  work;  one  honours  him  for  his  intellectual  quali- 
ties, which  are  of  a  high  and  brilliant  order;  but  one 
does  not  feel  that  he  is  leading  the  advance,  or  even 
that  he  knows  in  which  direction  the  army  is  definitely 
advancing. 


MISS  MAUDE  ROYDEN 

RoYDEN,  Agnes  Maude,  Assistant  Preacher  at  the  City  Temple, 
1918-20;  Founder  with  Dr.  Percy  Dearmer  of  the  Fellowship  Services  at 
Kensington;  b.  1876,  y.  d.  of  late  Sir  Thomas  Royden,  ist  Bart,  of 
Frankby  Hall,  Birkenhead.  Educ:  Cheltenham  Ladies'  College; 
Lady  Margaret  Hall,  Oxford.  Worked  at  the  Victoria  Women's  Settle- 
ment, Liverpool,  for  three  years  and  then  in  the  country  parish  of 
Luffenham;  Lecturer  in  English  Literature  to  the  Oxford  University 
Extension  Delegacy;  joined  the  National  Union  of  Women's  Suffrage 
Societies,  1908;  on  Executive  Committee,  1908;  Edited  the  Common 
Cause  till  1914;  wrote  and  spoke  chiefly  on  the  economic,  ethical,  and 
religious  aspects  of  the  Women's  Movement;  resigned  executive,  19 14. 


MISS    MAUDE   ROYDEN 


CHAPTER  VI 
MISS  MAUDE  ROYDEN 

.  .  .  their  religion,  too  {i.e.  the  religion  of  women),  has 
a  mode  of  expressing  itself,  though  it  seldom  resorts  to  the 
ordinary  phrases  of  divinity. 

Those  "nameless,  unremembered  acts  of  kindness  and  of 
love,"  by  which  their  influence  is  felt  through  every  part  of 
society,  humanising  and  consoling  wherever  it  travels,  are  their 
theology.  It  is  thus  that  they  express  the  genuine  religion  of 
their  minds;  and  we  trust  that  if  ever  they  should  study  the 
ordinary  dialect  of  systematised  religion  they  will  never,  while 
pronouncing  its  harsh  gutturals  and  stammering  over  its 
difficult  shibboleths,  forget  their  elder  and  simpler  and  richer 
and  sweeter  language. — F.  D.  Maurice. 

Pushkin  said  that  Russia  tiirned  an  Asian  face  towards 
Europe  and  a  European  face  towards  Asia. 

This  acute  saying  may  be  appUed  to  Miss  Roy  den. 
To  the  prosperous  and  timid  Christian  she  appears 
as  a  dangerous  evangelist  of  socialism,  and  to  the  fiery 
socialist  as  a  tame  and  sentimental  apostle  of  Chris- 
tianity. As  in  the  case  of  Russia,  so  in  the  case  of  this 
interesting  and  courageous  woman;  one  must  go  to 
neither  extremity,  neither  to  the  bourgeoisie  nor  to  the 
apacherie,  if  one  would  discover  the  truth  of  her  nature. 

Nor  need  one  fear  to  go  direct  to  the  lady  herself, 

105 


io6  PAINTED  WINDOWS 

for  she  is  the  very  soul  of  candour.  Moreover,  she  has 
that  charming  spirit  of  friendliness  and  communication 
which  distinguished  La  Bruyere,  a  philosopher  "always 
accessible,  even  in  his  deepest  studies,  who  tells  you  to 
come  in,  for  you  bring  him  something  more  precious  than 
gold  or  silver,  ij  it  is  the  opportunity  of  obliging  you^ 

Certainly  Miss  Royden  does  not  resemble,  in  her 
attitude  towards  either  God  or  the  human  race,  that 
curious  religieuse  Mdme.  de  Maintenon,  who  having 
been  told  by  her  confessor  in  the  floodtime  of  her  beauty 
that  "God  wished  her  to  become  the  King's  mistress," 
at  the  end  of  that  devout  if  somewhat  painful  experi- 
ence, replied  to  a  suggestion  about  writing  her  memoirs, 
' '  Only  saints  would  find  pleasure  in  its  perusal. " 

Miss  Royden's  memoirs,  if  they  are  ever  written, 
would  have,  I  think,  the  rather  unusual  merit  of  pleasing 
both  saints  and  sinners;  the  saints  by  the  depth  and 
beauty  of  her  spiritual  experience,  the  sinners  by  her 
freedom  from  every  shade  of  cant  and  by  her  strong, 
almost  masculine,  sympathy  with  the  difficulties  of  our 
human  nature.  Catherine  the  Great,  in  her  colloquies 
with  the  nervous  and  hesitating  Diderot,  used  to  say, 
"Proceed;  between  men  all  is  allowable."  One  may 
affirm  of  Miss  Royden  that  she  is  at  once  a  true  woman 
and  a  great  man. 

It  is  this  perfect  balance  of  the  masculine  and  femi- 
nine in  her  personality  which  makes  her  so  effective  a 
public  speaker,  so  powerful  an  influence  in  private  dis- 
course, and  so  safe  a  writer  on  questions  of  extreme 


MISS  MAUDE  ROYDEN  107 

delicacy,  such  as  the  problem  of  sex.  She  is  always  on 
the  level  of  the  whole  body  of  humanity,  a  complete 
person,  a  veritable  human  being,  neither  a  member  of  a 
class  nor  the  representative  of  a  sex. 

Perhaps  it  may  be  permitted  to  mention  two  events 
in  her  life  which  help  one  to  understand  how  it  is  she 
has  come  to  play  this  masculine  and  feminine  part  in 
public  life. 

One  day,  a  day  of  torrential  rain,  when  she  was  a 
girl  living  in  her  father's  house  in  Cheshire,  she  and  her 
sister  saw  a  carriage  and  pair  coming  through  the  park 
towards  the  house.  The  coachman  and  footman  on 
the  box  were  soaking  wet,  and  kept  their  heads  down  to 
avoid  the  sting  of  the  rain  in  their  eyes.  The  horses 
were  streaming  with  rain  and  the  carriage  might  have 
been  a  watercart. 

When  the  caller,  a  rich  lady,  arrived  in  the  drawing- 
room,  polite  wonder  was  expressed  at  her  boldness  in 
coming  out  on  such  a  dreadful  day.  She  seemed  sur- 
prised. "Oh,  but  I  came  in  a  closed  carriage,"  she 
explained. 

This  innocent  remark  opened  the  eyes  of  Miss  Royden 
to  the  obHquity  of  vision  which  is  wrought,  all  uncon- 
sciously in  many  cases,  by  the  power  of  selfishness. 
The  condition  of  her  coachman  and  footman  had  never 
for  a  moment  presented  itself  to  the  lady's  mind.  Miss 
Royden  made  acquaintance  with  righteous  indignation. 
She  became  a  reformer,  and  something  of  a  vehement 
reformer. 


io8  PAINTED  WINDOWS 

The  drenched  carriage  coming  through  a  splash  of  rain 
to  her  home  will  remain  for  ever  in  her  mind  as  an  im- 
age of  that  spirit  of  selfishness  which  in  its  manifold  and 
subtle  workings  wrecks  the  beauty  of  human  existence. 

Miss  Roy  den,  it  should  be  said,  had  been  prepared 
by  a  long  experience  of  pain  to  feel  sympathy  with  the 
sufferings  of  other  people.  Her  mind  had  been  lament- 
ably ploughed  up  ever  since  the  dawn  of  memory  to 
receive  the  divine  grain  of  compassion. 

At  birth  both  her  hips  were  dislocated,  and  lameness 
has  been  her  lot  through  life.  Such  was  her  spirit, 
however,  that  this  saddening  and  serious  affliction, 
dogging  her  days  and  nights  with  pain,  seldom  pre- 
vented her  from  joining  in  the  vigorous  games  and  sports 
of  the  Roy  den  family.  She  was  something  of  a  boy  even 
in  those  days,  and  pluck  was  the  very  centre  of  her 
science  of  existence. 

The  religion  of  her  parents  suggested  to  her  mind 
that  this  suffering  had  been  sent  by  God.  She  accepted 
the  perilous  suggestion,  but  never  confronted  it.  It 
neither  puffed  her  up  with  spiritual  pride  nor  created 
in  her  mind  bitter  thoughts  of  a  paltry  and  detestable 
Deity.  A  pagan  stoicism  helped  her  to  bear  her  lot 
quite  as  much  as,  if  not  more  than,  the  evangelicalism 
of  Sir  Thomas  and  Lady  Roy  den.  Moreover,  she  was 
too  much  in  love  with  life  to  give  her  mind  very 
seriously  to  the  difficulties  of  theology.  Even  with  a 
body  which  had  to  wrench  itself  along,  one  could  swim 
and  row,  read  and  think,  observe  and  worship. 


MISS  MAUDE  ROYDEN  109 

Her  eldest  brother  went  to  Winchester  and  Magdalen 
College  at  Oxford ;  she  to  Cheltenham  College  and  Lady 
Margaret  Hall  at  Oxford.  Education  was  an  enthu- 
siasm. Rivalry  in  scholarship  was  as  greatly  a  part  of 
that  wholesome  family  life  as  rivalry  in  games.  There 
was  always  a  Socratic  "throwing  of  the  ball"  going  on, 
both  indoors  and  out.  Miss  Roy  den  distinguished 
herself  in  the  sphere  of  learning  and  in  the  sphere  of 
sports. 

At  Oxford  the  last  vestiges  of  her  reHgion,  or  rather 
her  parents'  reHgion,  faded  from  her  mind,  without  pain 
of  any  order,  hardly  with  any  consciousness.  She 
devoted  herself  wholeheartedly  to  the  schools.  No 
longer  did  she  imagine  that  God  had  sent  her  lameness. 
She  ceased  to  think  of  Him. 

But  one  day  she  heard  a  sermon  which  made  her 
think  of  Jesus  as  a  teacher,  just  as  one  things  of  Plato 
and  Aristotle.  She  reflected  that  she  really  knew  more 
of  the  teaching  of  Plato  and  Aristotle  than  she  knew  of 
Christ's  teaching.  This  seemed  to  her  an  unsatisfactory 
state  of  things,  and  she  set  herself,  as  a  student  of  phil- 
osophy, to  study  the  teaching  of  Jesus.  What  had  He 
said  ?  Never  mind  whether  He  had  founded  this  Church 
or  that,  what  had  He  said?  And  what  had  been  His 
science  of  life,  His  reading  of  the  riddle? 

This  study,  to  which  she  brought  a  philosophic  mind 
and  a  candid  heart,  convinced  her  that  the  teaching 
should  be  tried.  It  was,  indeed,  a  teaching  that  asked 
men  to  prove  it  by  trial.    She  decided  to  try  it,  and  she 


no  PAINTED  WINDOWS 

tried  it  by  reading,  by  meditation,  and  by  prayer. 
The  trial  was  a  failure.  But  in  this  failure  was  a  mys- 
tery. For  the  more  she  failed  the  more  profoundly  con- 
scious she  became  of  Christ  as  a  Power.  This  feeling 
remained  with  her,  and  it  grew  stronger  with  time.  The 
Christ  who  would  not  help  her  nevertheless  tarried  as 
a  shadow  haunting  the  background  of  her  thoughts. 

There  was  a  secret  in  life  which  she  had  missed,  a 
power  which  she  had  never  used.  Then  came  the 
second  event  to  which  I  have  referred.  Miss  Roy  den 
met  a  lady  who  had  left  the  Church  of  England  and 
joined  the  Quakers,  seeking  by  this  change  to  intensify 
her  spiritual  experience,  seeking  to  make  faith  a  deep 
personal  reality  in  her  life.  This  lady  told  Miss  Roy  den 
the  following  experience : 

One  day,  at  a  Quakers'  meeting,  she  had  earnestly 
"besieged  the  Throne  of  Grace"  during  the  silence  of 
prayer,  imploring  God  to  manifest  Himself  to  her  spirit. 
So  earnestly  did  she  "besiege  the  Throne  of  Grace"  in 
this  silent  intercession  of  soul  that  at  last  she  was 
physically  exhausted  and  could  frame  no  further  words 
of  entreaty.  At  that  moment  she  heard  a  voice  in  her 
soul,  and  this  voice  said  to  her,  "Yes,  I  have  something 
to  say  to  you,  when  you  stop  your  shouting." 

From  this  experience  Miss  Royden  learned  to  see  the 
tremendous  difference  between  physical  and  spiritual 
silence.  She  cultivated,  with  the  peace  of  soul  which  is 
the  atmosphere  of  surrender  and  dependence,  silence  of 
spirit ;  and  out  of  this  silence  came  a  faith  against  which 


MISS  MAUDE  ROYDEN  in 

the  gates  of  hell  could  not  prevail ;  and  out  of  that  faith, 
winged  by  her  earliest  sympathy  with  all  suffering  and  all 
sorrow,  came  a  desire  to  give  herself  up  to  the  service  of 
God.    She  had  found  the  secret,  she  could  use  the  power. 

Her  first  step  towards  a  life  of  service  was  joining  a 
Women's  Settlement  in  Liverpool,  a  city  which  has 
wealth  enough  to  impress  and  gratify  the  disciples  of 
Mr.  Samuel  Smiles,  and  slums  enough  to  excite  and 
infuriate  the  disciples  of  Karl  Marx.  Here  Miss  Royden 
worked  for  three  years,  serving  her  novitiate  as  it  were 
in  the  ministry  of  mercy,  a  notable  figure  in  the  dark 
streets  of  Liverpool,  that  little  eager  body,  with  its 
dragging  leg,  its  struggling  hips,  its  head  held  high  to 
look  the  whole  world  in  the  face  on  the  chance,  nay,  but 
in  the  hope,  that  a  bright  smile  from  eyes  as  clear  as 
day  might  do  som.e  poor  devil  a  bit  of  good. 

She  brought  to  the  slums  of  Liverpool  the  gay  cheer- 
fulness of  a  University  woman,  Oxford's  particular 
brand  of  cheerfulness,  and  also  a  tenderness  of  sym- 
pathy and  a  graciousness  of  helpfulness  which  was  the 
fine  flower  of  deep,  inward,  silent,  personal  religion. 

It  is  not  easy  for  anyone  with  profound  sympathy 
to  believe  that  individual  Partingtons  can  sweep  back 
with  their  little  mops  of  beneficence  and  philanthropy 
the  Atlantic  Ocean  of  sin,  suffering,  and  despair  which 
floods  in  to  the  shores  of  our  industrialism — at  high  tide 
nearly  swamping  its  prosperity,  and  at  low  tide  leaving 
all  its  ugliness,  squalor,  and  despairing  hopelessness  bare 
to  the  eye  of  heaven. 


112  PAINTED  WINDOWS 

Miss  Royden  looked  out  for  something  with  a  wider 
sweep,  and  in  the  year  1908  joined  the  Women's  Suffrage 
Movement.  It  was  her  hope,  her  conviction,  that  wo- 
man's influence  in  poHtics  might  have  a  cleansing  effect 
in  the  national  Hfe.  She  became  an  advocate  of  this 
great  Movement,  but  an  advocate  who  always  based 
her  argument  on  religious  grounds.  She  had  no  delu- 
sions about  materialistic  politics.  Her  whole  effort  was 
to  spiritualise  the  public  life  of  England. 

Here  she  made  a  discovery — a  discovery  of  great 
moment  to  her  subsequent  career.  She  discovered  that 
many  came  to  her  meetings,  and  sought  personal  inter- 
views or  written  correspondence  with  her  afterwards, 
who  were  not  greatly  interested  in  the  franchise,  but 
who  were  interested,  in  some  tragic  cases  poignantly 
interested,  in  spiritual  enfranchisement.  Life  revealed 
itself  to  her  as  a  struggle  between  the  higher  and  lower 
nature,  a  conflict  in  the  will  between  good  and  evil. 
She  was  at  the  heart  of  evolution. 

It  became  evident  to  Miss  Royden  that  she  had 
discovered  for  herself  both  a  constituency  and  a  church. 
Some  years  after  making  this  discovery  she  abandoned 
all  other  work,  and  ever  since,  first  at  the  City  Temple 
and  now  at  the  Guildhouse  in  Eccleston  Square,  has 
been  one  of  the  most  effective  advocates  in  this  country 
of  personal  religion. 

She  does  not  impress  one  by  the  force  of  her  intellect, 
but  rather  by  the  force  of  her  humanity.  You  take  it 
for  granted  that  she  is  a  scholar;  you  are  aware  of  her 


MISS  MAUDE  ROYDEN  113 

intellectual  gifts,  I  mean,  only  as  you  are  aware  of  her 
breeding.  The  main  impression  she  makes  is  one  of  full 
humanity,  humanity  at  its  best,  humanity  that  is  pure 
but  not  self-righteous,  charitable  but  not  sentimental, 
just  but  not  hard,  true  but  not  mechanical  in  consist- 
ency, frank  but  not  gushing.  Out  of  all  this  come  two 
things,  the  sense  of  two  realisms,  the  realism  of  her 
political  faith,  and  the  realism  of  her  religious  faith. 
You  are  aware  that  she  feels  the  sufferings  and  the  de- 
privations of  the  oppressed  in  her  own  blood,  and  feels 
the  power,  the  presence,  and  the  divinity  of  Christ  in 
her  own  soul. 

It  is  a  grateful  experience  to  sit  with  this  woman,  who 
is  so  hke  the  best  of  men  but  is  so  manifestly  the 
staunchest  of  women.  Her  face  reveals  the  force  of  her 
emotions,  her  voice,  which  is  musical  and  persuasive, 
the  depth  of  her  compassion.  In  her  sitting-room,  which 
is  almost  a  study  and  nearly  an  office,  hangs  a  portrait  of 
Newman,  and  a  prie-Dieu  stands  against  one  of  the 
walls  half -hidden  by  bookshelves.  She  is  one  of  the 
few  very  busy  people  I  have  known  who  give  one  no 
feeling  of  an  inward  commotion. 

Apart  from  her  natural  eloquence  and  her  unmis- 
takable sincerity,  apart  even  from  the  attractive  fullness 
of  her  humanity,  I  think  the  notable  success  of  her 
preaching  is  to  be  attributed  to  a  single  reason,  quite 
outside  any  such  considerations.  It  is  a  reason  of  great 
importance  to  the  modern  student  of  religious  psy- 
chology.   Miss  Royden  preaches  Christ  as  a  Power. 


114  PAINTED  WINDOWS 

To  others  she  leaves  the  esoteric  aspects  of  religion, 
and  the  ceremonial  of  worship,  and  the  difficulties  of 
theology,  and  the  mechanism  of  parochial  organisation. 
Her  mission,  as  she  receives  it,  is  to  preach  to  people 
who  are  unwiUing  and  suffering  victims  of  sin,  or  who 
are  tortured  by  theological  indecision,  that  Christ  is  a 
Power,  a  Power  that  works  miracles,  a  Power  that  can 
change  the  habits  of  a  lifetime,  perhaps  the  very  tissues 
of  a  poisoned  body,  and  can  give  both  peace  and  guid- 
ance to  the  soul  that  is  dragged  this  way  and  that. 

One  may  be  pardoned  for  remarking  that  this  is  a 
rather  unusual  form  of  preaching  in  any  of  the  respect- 
able churches.  Christianity  as  a  unique  power  in  the 
world,  a  power  which  transfigures  human  life,  which 
tears  habitude  up  by  the  roots,  and  which  gives  new 
strength  to  the  will,  new  eyes  to  the  soul,  and  a  new 
reality  to  the  understanding ;  this,  strange  to  say,  is  an 
unusual,  perhaps  an  unpopular  subject  of  clerical  dis- 
course. It  is  Miss  Royden's  insistent  contribution  to 
modern  theology. 

She  tells  me  that  so  far  as  her  own  experience  goes, 
humanity  does  not  seem  to  be  troubled  by  intellectual 
doubts.  She  is  incHned  to  think  that  it  is  even  sick  of 
such  discussions,  and  is  apt  to  describe  them  roughly 
and  impatiently  as  "mere  talk."  Humanity,  as  she 
sees  it,  is  immersed  in  the  incessant  struggle  of  moral 
evolution. 

There  is  an  empiricism  of  religion  which  is  worth 
attention.    It  challenges  the  sceptic  to  explain  both  the 


MISS  MAUDE  ROYDEN  115 

conversion  of  the  sinner  and  the  beauty  of  the  saint. 
If  religion  can  change  a  man's  whole  character  in  the 
twinkling  of  an  eye,  if  it  can  give  a  beauty  of  holiness 
to  human  nature  such  as  is  felt  by  all  men  to  be  the 
highest  expression  of  man's  spirit,  truly  it  is  a  science  of 
life  which  works,  and  one  which  its  critics  must  explain. 
The  theories  of  dogmatist  and  traditionalist  are  not  the 
authentic  documents  of  the  Christian  religion.  Let  the 
sceptic  bring  his  indictment  against  the  changed  hves 
of  those  who  attribute  to  Christ  alone  the  daily  miracle 
of  their  gladness. 

What  men  and  women  want  to  know  in  these  days, 
Miss  Royden  assures  me  out  of  the  richness  of  her  great 
experience,  is  whether  Christianity  works,  whether  it 
does  things.  The  majority  of  people,  she  feels  sure,  are 
looking  about  for  "something  that  helps" — something 
that  will  strengthen  men  and  women  to  fight  down  their 
lower  nature,  that  will  convince  them  that  their  higher 
nature  is  a  reality,  and  that  will  give  them  a  Hving 
sense  of  companionship  in  their  difficult  lives — lives 
often  as  drab  and  depressing  as  they  are  morally 
difficult. 

Because  she  can  convey  this  great  sense  of  the  power 
of  Christianity,  people  all  over  the  country  go  to  hear 
her  preach  and  lecture.  She  is,  I  think,  one  of  the  most 
persuasive  preachers  of  the  power  of  Christianity  in 
any  EngHsh-speaking  country.  It  is  impossible  to  feel 
of  her  that  she  is  merely  speaking  of  something  she  has 
read  about  in  books,  or  of  something  which  she  recom- 


Ii6  PAINTED  WINDOWS 

mends  because  it  is  apostolic  and  traditional;  she  brings 
home  to  the  mind  of  the  most  cynical  and  ironical  that 
her  message,  so  modestly  and  gently  given,  is  neverthe- 
less torn  out  of  her  inmost  soul  by  a  deep  inward  experi- 
ence and  by  a  sympathy  with  humanity  which  alto- 
gether transfigures  her  simple  words. 

It  must  be  difficult,  I  should  think,  for  any  fair- 
minded  sceptic  not  to  give  this  rehgion  at  least  a  prac- 
tical trial  after  hearing  Miss  Royden's  exposition  of  it 
and  after  learning  from  her  the  manner  in  which  that 
experiment  should  be  carried  out.  For  she  speaks  as 
one  having  the  authority  of  a  deep  personal  experience, 
making  no  dogmatic  claims,  expressing  sympathy  with 
all  those  who  fail,  but  assuring  her  hearers  that  when 
the  moment  comes  for  their  illumination  it  will  come, 
and  that  it  will  be  a  veritable  day  spring  from  on  high. 
Earnestness  is  hers  of  the  highest  and  tenderest  order, 
but  also  the  convincing  authority  of  one  who  has  found 
the  peace  which  passes  understanding. 

She  has  spoken  to  me  with  sympathy  of  Mr.  Studdert- 
Kennedy,  whose  trench-Hke  methods  in  the  pulpit  are 
thoroughly  distasteful  to  a  great  number  of  people.  It  is 
characteristic  of  Miss  Royden  that  she  should  fasten  on 
the  real  cause  of  this  violence.  "I  don't  like  jargon," 
she  said,  "particularly  the  jargon  of  Christian  Science 
and  Theosophy.  I  love  English  Hterature  too  much  for 
that ;  and  I  don't  Hke  slang,  particularly  slang  of  a  brutal 
order;  but  I  feel  a  deep  sympathy  with  anybody  who  is 
trying,  as  Mr.  Studdert-Kennedy  is  trying,  to  put  life 


MISS  MAUDE  ROYDEN  117 

and  power  into  institutionalism.    It  wants  it  so  badly — 
oh,  so  very  badly — life,  life,  life  and  power." 

Of  one  whose  scholarship  greatly  impresses  her,  and 
for  whose  spiritual  life  she  has  true  respect,  but  whose 
theology  fills  her  soul  with  dark  shadows  and  cold  shud- 
ders, she  exclaimed,  as  though  it  were  her  own  fault  for 
not  understanding  him,  "It  is  as  if  God  were  dead!" 

Always  she  wants  Christianity  as  Hfe  and  power. 

She  remains  a  social  reformer,  and  is  disposed  to  agree 
with  Bishop  Gore  that  the  present  system  is  so  iniqui- 
tous that  it  cannot  be  Christianised.  She  thinks  it  must 
be  destroyed,  but  admits  the  peril  of  destructive  work 
till  a  new  system  is  ready  to  take  its  place. 

Yet  I  feel  fairly  certain  that  she  would  admit,  if 
pressed  with  the  question,  that  the  working  of  any 
better  system  can  depend  for  its  success  only  upon  a 
much  better  humanity.  For  she  is  one  of  those  who  is 
bewildered  by  the  selfishness  of  men  and  women,  a 
brutal,  arrogant,  challenging,  and  wholly  unashamed 
selfishness,  which  publicly  seeks  its  own  pleasures,  pub- 
Hcly  displays  the  offending  symbols  of  its  offensive 
wealth,  pubUcly  indulges  itself  in  most  shameful  and 
infuriating  luxuries,  even  at  a  time  when  children  are 
dying  like  flies  of  starvation  and  pestilence,  and  while 
the  men  of  their  own  household,  who  fought  to  save 
civihsation  from  the  despotism  of  the  Prussian  theory, 
tramp  the  streets,  hungry  and  bitter-hearted,  looking 
for  work. 

On  her  mind,  moving  about  England  at  all  times 


ii8  PAINTED  WINDOWS 

of  the  year,  the  reaUty  of  these  things  is  for  ever  press- 
ing; the  unthinkable  selfishness  of  so  many,  and  the 
awful  depression  of  the  multitude.  She  says  that  a 
system  which  produces,  or  permits,  such  a  state  of  things 
must  be  bad,  and  radically  bad. 

There  are  moments,  when  she  speaks  of  these  things, 
which  reveal  to  one  a  certain  anger  of  her  soul,  a  dis- 
position, if  I  may  say  so  with  great  respect,  towards 
vehemence,  a  temper  of  impatience  and  indignation 
which  would  surely  have  carried  her  into  the  camp  of 
anarchy  but  for  the  restraining  power  of  her  religious 
experience.  She  feels,  deeply  and  burningly,  but  she 
has  a  Master.  The  flash  comes  into  her  eyes,  but  the 
habitual  serenity  returns. 

I  think,  however,  she  might  be  persuaded  to  believe 
that  it  is  not  so  much  the  present  system  but  the  pagan 
selfishness  of  mankind  which  brings  these  unequal  and 
dreadful  things  to  pass.  The  lady  in  the  closed  carriage 
would  not  be  profoundly  changed,  we  may  suppose,  by 
a  different  system  of  economics,  but  surely  she  might  be 
changed  altogether — body,  soul,  and  spirit — if  she  so 
willed  it,  by  that  Power  which  has  directed  Miss 
Royden's  own  life  to  such  beautiful  and  wonderful 
ends. 

Nevertheless,  Miss  Royden  must  be  numbered  among 
the  socialists,  the  Christian  socialists,  and  Individualism 
will  be  all  the  better  for  asking  itself  how  it  is  that  a 
lady  so  good,  so  gentle,  so  clear-headed,  and  so  honest 
should  be  arrayed  with  its  enemies. 


MISS  MAUDE  ROYDEN  119 

I  should  like  to  speak  of  one  memorable  experience 
in  Miss  Royden's  later  life. 

She  has  formed  a  little,  modest,  unknown,  and  I 
think  nameless  guild  for  personal  religion.  She  desires 
that  nothing  of  its  work  should  get  into  the  press  and 
that  it  should  not  add  to  its  numbers.  She  wishes  it  to 
remain  a  sacred  confraternity  of  her  private  life,  as  it 
were  the  lady  chapel  of  her  cathedral  services  to  man- 
kind, or  as  a  retreat  for  her  exhausted  soul. 

Some  months  ago  she  asked  a  clergyman  who  has 
succeeded  in  turning  into  a  house  of  living  prayer  a 
London  church  which  before  his  coming  was  like  a  tomb, 
whether  he  would  allow  the  members  of  this  guild,  all 
of  whom  are  not  members  of  the  Church  of  England, 
to  come  to  the  Eucharist.  He  received  this  request 
with  the  most  generous  sympathy,  saying  that  he  would 
give  them  a  private  celebration,  and  one  morning,  soon 
after  dawn,  the  guild  met  in  this  chiu-ch  to  make  its 
first  communion.    No  one  else  was  present. 

Miss  Royden  has  told  me  that  it  was  an  unforgettable 
experience.  Here  was  a  man,  she  said,  who  has  no 
reputation  as  a  great  scholar,  and  no  popularity  as  an 
orator ;  he  is  loved  simply  for  his  devotion  to  Christ  and 
his  sympathy  with  the  sorrows  of  mankind.  Yet  that 
man,  as  no  other  man  had  done  before,  brought  the 
Presence  of  God  into  the  hearts  of  that  Httle  kneeling 
guild.  It  was  as  if,  Miss  Royden  tells  me,  God  was  there  at 
the  altar,  shining  upon  them  and  blessing  them.  Never 
before  had  she  been  more  certain  of  God  as  a  Person. 


120  PAINTED  WINDOWS 

It  is  from  experiences  of  this  nature  that  she  draws 
fresh  power  to  make  men  and  women  believe  that  the 
Christian  religion  is  a  true  philosophy  of  reality,  and  a 
true  science  of  healing.  She  is,  I  mean,  a  mystic.  But 
she  differs  from  a  mystic  like  Dean  Inge  in  this,  that  she 
is  a  mystic  impelled  by  human  sympathy  to  use  her 
mysticism  as  her  sole  evangel. 


CANON  E.  W.  BARNES 

Barnes,  Rev.  Ernest  William,  M.A.,  Sc.D.,  F.R.S.,  F.R.A.S.;  Canon 
of  Westminster  since  1918;  b.  i  April,  1874;  e.  s.  of  John  Starkie  Barnes; 
m.  1916,  Adelaide  Caroline  Theresa,  o.  d.  of  Sir  Adolphus  W.  Ward.; 
two  s.  Educ.:  King  Edward's  School,  Birmingham;  Trinity  College, 
Cambridge  (Scholar).  Bracketed  2d  Wrangler,  1896;  President  of  the 
Union,  1 897;  First  Class  First  Division  of  the  Mathematical  Tripos, 
Part  ii.,  1897;  first  Smith's  Prizeman,  1898;  Fellow  of  Trinity  College, 
1898-1916;  M.A.,  1900;  Ordained,  1902;  Assistant  Lecturer  Trinity 
Coll.,  1902;  Junior  Dean,  1906-8;  Tutor,  1908-15;  Master  of  the  Temple, 
1 91 5-19;  Examining  Chaplain  to  Bishop  of  Llandaff,  1906-20:  a  Gov- 
ernor of  King  Edward's  School,  Birmingham,  1907;  F.R.S.,  1909; 
Select  Preacher,  Cambridge,  1906,  etc.,  and  Oxford,  1914-16;  Fellowof 
King's  College,  London,  1919. 


CANON    C.  W.    BARNES 


CHAPTER  VII 
CANON  E.  W.  BARNES 

True  religion  takes  up  that  place  in  the  mind  which  super- 
stition would  usurp,  and  so  leaves  little  room  for  it;  and  likewise 
lays  us  under  the  strongest  obligations  to  oppose  it. — Bishop 
Butler. 

Socrates  looked  up  at  him,  and  replied,  Farewell:  I  will 
do  as  you  say.  Then  he  turned  to  us  and  said,  How  courteous 
the  man  is! — Plato. 

In  this  able  and  courageous  Doctor  of  Science,  who 
came  to  theology  from  mathematics,  a  great  virtue  and 
a  small  fault  combine  to  check  his  intellectual  useful- 
ness. His  heart  is  as  full  of  modesty  as  his  mind  of 
tentatives. 

He  is  possessed  by  a  gracious  nature,  and  could  no 
more  think  of  raising  his  voice  to  shout  down  a  Boan- 
erges than  he  could  dream  of  lifting  an  elbow  to  push  his 
way  through  a  press  of  people  bound  for  the  limelight. 
It  is  only  a  deep  moral  earnestness  which  brings  him  in- 
to public  life  at  all,  and  he  endeavours  to  treat  that 
public  life  not  as  it  is  but  as  it  ought  to  be. 

In  "the  calmness  and  moderation  of  his  sentiments," 

in  his  dislike  of  everything  that  is  sensational,  and  of 

all   "undue   emphasis,"   he   resembles  Joubert,   who 

123 


124  PAINTED  WINDOWS 

wanted  "to  infuse  exquisite  sense  into  common  sense,  or 
to  render  exquisite  sense  common." 

Modesty  might  not  so  hamper  the  usefulness  of 
Canon  Barnes  if  he  knew  a  little  less  than  he  does 
know,  and  was  also  conveniently  blind  to  the  vastness 
of  scientific  territory.  But  he  knows  much ;  much  too 
much  for  vociferation ;  and  his  eyes  are  so  wide  open  to 
the  enormous  sweep  of  scientific  inquiry  that  he  can 
nowhere  discern  at  present  the  ground  for  a  single  thesis 
which  effectually  accounts  for  everything — a  great  lack 
in  a  popular  preacher. 

I  am  disposed  to  deplore  the  degree  both  of  his 
modesty  and  his  scholarship,  for  he  possesses  one  of  the 
rarest  and  most  precious  of  gifts  in  a  very  learned  man, 
particularly  a  mathematician  and  a  theologian,  namely, 
the  gift  of  lucid  exposition.  Few  men  of  our  day,  in  my 
judgment,  are  better  qualified  to  state  the  whole  case  for 
Christianity  than  this  distinguished  Canon  of  West- 
minster Abbey,  this  evangelical  Fellow  of  the  Royal 
Society,  who  is  nevertheless  prevented  from  attracting 
the  attention  of  the  multitude  by  the  gracious  humility 
of  his  nature  and  the  intellectual  nervousness  which  is 
apt  to  inhibit  his  free  utterance  when  he  approaches  an 
audience  in  the  region  of  science. 

What  a  pity  that  a  clergyman  so  charming  and 
attractive,  and  yet  so  modern,  who  understands  the 
relativity  of  Einstein  and  who  is  admirably  grounded 
in  the  physical  sciences,  should  lack  that  fighting 
instinct,  that  "confidence  of  reason,"  which  in  Father 


CANON  E.  W.  BARNES  125 

Waggett,  an  equally  charming  person,  caught  the  atten- 
tion of  the  reHgious  world  thirty  or  forty  years  ago. 

His  mind  is  not  unlike  the  mind  of  Lord  Robert 
Cecil,  and  it  is  curious  that  even  physically  he  should  at 
certain  moments  resemble  Lord  Robert,  particularly 
in  his  walk  and  the  almost  set  expression  of  his  eyes.  He 
is  tall  and  thin,  and  has  the  same  stoop  in  the  shoulders, 
moving  forward  as  if  an  invisible  hand  were  pressed 
against  the  back  of  his  neck,  shoving  him  forward  by  a 
series  of  jerks;  and  he  seems  to  throw,  like  Lord  Robert, 
a  particular  sense  of  enjoyment  into  the  motion  of  his 
legs,  as  though  he  would  get  rid  of  all  perilous  swagger 
at  that,  the  less  harmful  end  of  his  two  extremities — the 
antipodes  of  his  reason.  Like  Lord  Robert,  too,  he 
has  a  most  pleasant  voice,  and  a  slow  deliberate  way 
of  speaking,  and  a  warm  kindly  smile  which  fades  at 
the  first  movement  of  serious  thought,  leaving  the  whole 
pale  face,  even  the  dark  eyes  under  their  heavy  brows, 
almost  deathlike  in  immobiHty.  One  seems  to  see 
in  such  moments  the  spirit  withdraw  from  the  surface  of 
things  to  take  up  its  duty  at  the  citadel  of  the  intellect. 

The  same  conflict  between  temperament  and  purpose 
which  has  prevented  Lord  Robert  Cecil  from  taking  his 
place  at  the  head  of  a  Government  prevents  Canon 
Barnes  from  advancing  at  the  head  of  modern  Church- 
men to  the  rich  future  of  a  depaganised  and  wholly 
rational  Christianity.  His  heart  says  ' '  Fight, ' '  but  his 
reason  says  "Watch."  Fighting  is  distasteful;  watch- 
ing is  congenial.  Besides,  while  one  is  watching  one  can 


126  PAINTED  WINDOWS 

review  all  the  hypotheses.  A  man  who  is  not  careful  in 
destroying  a  fallacy  may  damage  a  truth. 

But  let  us  be  grateful  for  his  public  utterances, 
which  show  a  high  spirit,  a  noble  devotion,  an  enviable 
range  of  culture,  and,  for  the  discerning  at  least,  tell  the 
true  time  of  day.  It  is  one  of  the  encouraging  signs  of 
the  period  that  such  distinguished  preaching  should 
have  made  a  mark.  Moreover,  he  is  yet  three  years 
from  fifty,  with  a  mind  so  hospitable  to  growth  that  it 
has  no  room  for  one  of  those  prejudices  which  are  the 
dry-nurses  of  old  age.  Those  who  love  truth  die  young, 
whatever  their  age.  Canon  Barnes  may  yet  give  the 
Church  a  proof  of  his  power  to  lead — a  Church  at  pres- 
ent aware  only  of  his  power  to  suggest. 

He  considers  that  we  are  living  in  a  time  of  revolution, 
and,  judging  by  historic  precedents,  particularly  the 
Renaissance,  he  thinks  we  are  now  in  the  second  stage  of 
our  revolution,  which  is  the  most  difficult  of  all.  First, 
comes  the  destruction  of  false  ideas— a  bracing  time  for 
the  born  fighter ;  second,  comes  the  tentative  search  for 
new  ideas — an  anxious  time  for  the  responsible  philo- 
sopher; third,  comes  the  preaching  of  these  new  ideas 
with  passion — the  opportunity  of  the  enthusiast. 
Happy  were  the  divines  of  the  seventeenth  century ! 

We,  however,  are  in  the  second  stage. 

This  is  not  a  period  for  new  ideas:  it  is  a  period  of 
searching  for  the  best  idea.  He  who  rushes  forward 
with  an  untried  new  idea  may  be  more  dangerous  than 
he  who  still  clings,  in  the  Name  of  Christ,  to  an  old  idea 


CANON  E.  W.  BARNES  127 

which  is  false.  We  must  be  quite  certain  of  our  ground 
before  we  advance  with  boldness,  and  our  boldness  must 
be  spiritual,  not  muscular. 

Modernism  has  fought  and  won  the  battle  of  verbal 
inspiration.  No  man  whose  opinion  counts  in  the  least 
degree  now  holds  that  the  Bible  was  verbally  inspired 
by  God.  It  is  respected,  honoured,  loved ;  but  it  is  no 
longer  a  fetish.  In  ceasing  to  be  a  superstition,  and  in 
coming  to  be  a  number  of  genuine  books  full  of  light 
for  the  student  of  history,  the  Bible  is  exercising  at  the 
present  time  an  extraordinary  influence  in  the  world,  a 
greater  influence  perhaps  on  thoughtful  minds  than  it 
ever  before  exercised. 

The  battle  which  modernism  is  now  fighting  over  this 
collection  of  books  concerns  the  Person  of  Jesus  and  the 
relative  value  of  the  gospels  which  narrate  His  life,  and 
in  the  case  of  the  Fourth,  endeavour  to  expound  His 
teaching.  This  great  battle  is  not  over,  but  it  looks  as 
if  victory  will  lie  with  the  more  moderate  school  of 
modernists.  Outside  very  extreme  circles,  the  old  rigid 
notions  concerning  the  Person  of  Jesus  are  no  longer 
held  with  the  passion  which  gave  them  a  certain  noble 
force  in  the  days  before  Darwin.  There  is  now  a 
notable  tell-tale  petulance  about  orthodoxy  which  is 
sometimes  insolent  but  never  effective. 

Ahead  of  this  battle,  which  the  present  generation 
may  live  to  see  fought  out  to  a  conclusion,  lies  a  third 
struggle  likely  to  be  of  a  more  desperate  character 
than  its  two  forerunners — the  battle  over  Sacramental 


128  PAINTED  WINDOWS 

Christianity.  Already  in  France  and  Germany  the 
question  is  asked,  Did  Jesus  institute  any  sacraments 
at  all?  But  even  in  these  two  countries  the  battle  has 
not  yet  begun  in  real  earnest,  while  over  here  only 
readers  of  Lake  and  Kennedy  are  dimly  aware  of  a 
coming  storm.  That  storm  will  concern  rites  which 
few  orthodox  Christians  have  ever  regarded  as  heathen 
in  their  spirit,  though  some  have  come  to  know  they  are 
pagan  in  origin. 

It  is  not  wise  to  ignore  this  future  struggle,  but  our 
main  responsibility  is  to  bear  a  manful  part  in  the 
struggle  which  is  now  upon  us. 

There  are  three  types  of  modernists.  There  is,  first 
of  all,  the  Liberal,  who  regards  Christianity  as  a  form  of 
Platonism  resting  on  the  idea  of  absolute  values.  This 
is  dangerous  ground:  something  more  is  required. 
Then  there  is  the  evangelical  modernist,  who  accepts 
almost  everything  in  the  Higher  Criticism,  but  holds  to 
Christ  as  an  incarnation  of  the  Divine  purpose,  an  in- 
carnation, if  you  will,  of  God,  all  we  can  know  of  God 
limited  by  His  human  body,  as  God  we  must  suppose  is 
not  limited,  but  still  God.  And,  finally,  there  is  the 
Catholic  modernist,  who  believes  in  a  Church,  who 
makes  the  sacraments  his  centre  of  religion,  and  exalts 
Christianity  to  the  head  of  all  the  mystery  religions 
which  have  played  a  part  in  the  evolution  of  the 
human  race.  This  is  not  likely  to  be  the  prevailing 
type  of  modernism. 

It  looks  as  if  the  main  body  of  modern  opinion  is 


CANON  E.  W.  BARNES  129 

moving  in  the  direction  followed  by  the  second  of  these 
schools — the  evangelical.  Here  is  preserved  all  that 
great  range  of  deep  feeling  and  all  that  fine  energy  of 
unselfish  earnestness  which  have  given  to  Christianity 
the  most  effectual  of  its  impulses.  A  man  may  still 
worship  Christ,  and  still  make  obedience  to  the  Will  of 
Christ  the  chief  passion  or  object  of  his  existence, 
although  he  no  longer  beheves  that  Jesus  was  either 
bom  out  of  the  order  of  nature  or  died  to  turn  away  the 
vengeance  of  God  from  a  world  which  had  sinned  itself 
beyond  the  reach  of  infinite  love. 

Like  Goethe,  such  a  man  will  say:  "As  soon  as 
the  pure  doctrine  and  love  of  Christ  are  comprehended 
in  their  true  nature,  and  have  become  a  living  principle, 
we  shall  feel  ourselves  great  and  free  as  human  beings, 
and  not  attach  special  importance  to  a  degree  more  or 
less  in  the  outward  forms  of  religion." 

The  critics  of  modernism  do  not  seem  able,  for  some 
reason,  to  grasp  a  truth  which  has  been  apparent  all 
down  the  ages,  a  truth  so  old  that  it  is  almost  entitled 
to  be  regarded  as  a  tradition,  and  so  widely  held  that  it 
is  almost  worthy  to  be  called  catholic,  namely,  the  truth 
that  Jesus  loses  none  of  His  power  over  human  history 
so  long  as  He  abides  a  living  principle  in  the  hearts  of 
individual  men.  So  long  as  He  expresses  for  mankind 
the  Character  of  God  and  reveals  to  mankind  the  nature 
of  God's  purpose,  so  long  as  men  love  Him  as  they  love 
no  other,  and  set  themselves  to  make  His  spirit  tell, 
first  in  their  lives  and  after  that  in  the  world  about 


130  PAINTED  WINDOWS 

them,  does  it  greatly  matter  whether  they  speak  of 
His  divinity  or  His  uniqueness,  whether  they  accept 
definitions  concerning  Him  (framed  by  men  in  the 
dark  ages)  or  go  about  to  do  His  will  with  no  definitions 
in  their  mind  at  all  beyond  the  intellectual  conviction 
that  here  is  One  who  spoke  as  no  other  man  has  spoken 
since  the  creation  of  the  world? 

Canon  Barnes,  who  disowns  the  name  of  modernist, 
but  who  is  the  very  opposite  of  an  obscurantist  in 
his  evangelicalism,  is  careful  to  insist  upon  a  ra- 
tional loyalty  to  Christ.  I  tried  one  day  to  tempt 
him  on  this  head,  speaking  of  the  miraculous  changes 
wrought  in  men's  lives  by  religious  fervour  pure  and 
simple;  but  it  was  in  vain.  He  agrees  that  religious 
fervour  may  work  such  miracles:  he  is  the  last  man 
in  the  world  to  dismiss  these  miracles  as  curious 
and  interesting  phenomena  of  psychology ;  but  he  in- 
sists, and  is  like  a  rock  on  this  matter,  that  emo- 
tional Christianity  is  not  safe  without  an  intellectual 
background. 

He  makes  me  feel  that  his  modernism,  if  I  may 
presume  to  use  that  term,  is  an  evangelical  desire  of  his 
soul  to  give  men  this  intellectual  background  to  their 
faith.  He  wants,  as  it  were,  to  save  their  beliefs  rather 
than  their  souls.  He  regards  the  emotionalist  as 
occupying  territory  as  dangerous  to  himself  and  to  the 
victory  of  Christianity  as  the  territory  occupied  by  the 
traditionalist.  Both  schools  offend  the  mind  of  rational 
men ;  both  make  Christianity  seem  merely  an  affair  of 


CANON  E.  W.  BARNES  131 

temperament;  and  both  are  exposed  to  the  danger  of 
losing  their  faith. 

To  convert  the  world  to  the  Will  of  God,  it  is  essential 
that  the  Christian  should  have  a  rational  explanation 
of  his  faith,  a  faith  which,  resting  only  on  tradition  or 
emotion,  must  obviously  take  its  place  among  all  the 
other  competing  religions  of  mankind,  a  religion  possess- 
ing no  authority  recognised  by  the  modern  world. 

The  modern  world  rightly  asks  of  every  opinion 
and  idea  presented  to  its  judgment,  "Is  it  true?"  and 
it  has  reason  on  its  side  in  being  sceptical  concerning 
the  records  of  the  past.  If  not,  there  are  reHgions  in  the 
world  of  an  antiquity  greater  than  Christianity's,  whose 
traditions  have  been  faithfully  kept  by  a  vaster  host 
of  the  human  race  than  has  ever  followed  the  traditions 
of  Christianity.  Is  it  to  be  a  battle  between  tradition 
and  tradition  ?  Is  age  to  be  a  test  of  truth  ?  Is  devotion 
to  a  formula  to  count  as  an  argument  ? 

The  emotionalist,  too,  is  no  longer  on  safe  ground 
in  protesting  his  miracles  of  conversion.  The  psycho- 
logist is  advancing  towards  that  ground,  and  advancing 
with  every  theory  of  supernatural  evidence  excluded 
from  his  mind.  The  psychologist  may  eventually  be 
driven  to  accept  the  Christian  explanation  of  these 
phenomena;  but  until  that  surrender  is  made  the 
emotionalist  will  not  be  the  power  in  the  world  which  he 
ought  to  be.  His  house,  too,  must  be  founded  upon  a 
rock. 

Let  us  not  be  afraid  of  examining  our  faith,  bringing 


132  PAINTED  WINDOWS 

our  minds  as  well  as  our  hearts  and  our  souls  to  the 
place  of  judgment. 

I  will  give  here  a  few  quotations  from  the  utterances 
of  Canon  Barnes  which  show  his  position  with  sufficient 
clearness. 

We  all  seek  for  truth.  But,  whereas  to  some  truth 
seems  a  tide  destined  to  rise  and  sweep  destructively 
across  lands  where  Jesus  reigned  as  the  Son  of  God, 
to  me  it  is  the  power  which  will  set  free  new  streams  to 
irrigate  His  Kingdom. 

As  is  obvious  to  everyone,  all  the  Churches  realise, 
though  some  do  not  acknowledge,  the  necessity  of 
presenting  the  Christian  Faith  in  terms  of  current 
thought. 

We  have  seen  the  urgent  need  of  a  fuller  knowledge 
of  the  structure  of  the  human  mind  if  we  would  explain 
how  Jesus  was  related  to  God  and  how  we  receive  grace 
from  God  through  Christ. 

I  am  an  Evangelical ;  I  cannot  call  myself  a  modernist. 

I  have  welcomed  the  intervention  of  those  who, 
disclaiming  any  knowledge  of  scholarship  or  theology, 
have  in  simple  language  revealed  the  power  of  Christ  in 
their  lives.  For  theory  and  practice,  speculation  and 
life,  cannot  be  separated.  We  cannot  begin  to  explain 
Jesus  until  we  know  how  men  and  women  are  trans- 
formed by  the  love  of  Christ  constraining  them. 

Those  to  whom  religion  is  external  and  worship  formal 
are  of  necessity  pretentious  or  arid  in  speaking  of  such 
matters  as  the  Person  of  Christ  or  the  value  of 
creeds. 

We  do  not  affirm  that  the  Lord's  Person  and  work 
have  been  central  in  Christianity  in  the  past.  There 
is  much  to  be  said  for  the  view  that  they  were,  from 
the  end  of  the  second  century  to  the  close  of  the  Middle 


CANON  E.  W.  BARNES  I33 

Ages,  concealed  beneath  alien  ideas  derived  from  the 
mystery  religions ;  that  the  Reformation  was  the  hammer 
which  broke  the  husk  within  which,  under  God's  provi- 
dence, the  kernel  had  been  preserved  during  the  decline 
and  eclipse  of  European  civilisation. 

...  as  religion  grows  in  richness  and  purity,  Jesus 
comes  to  His  own. 

Reason  and  intuition  combine  to  justify  the  beHef 
that  our  Lord  had  a  right  understanding  of  what  man 
can  become. 

We  say  that  man  is  not  only  a  part  of  the  evolutionary 
process.  His  highest  attributes  must  serve  to  show  its 
purpose.  They  reveal  the  nature  and  the  end  of  God's 
plan. 

...  as  man  develops  in  the  way  predestined  by  God, 
he  will  continually  approach  the  standard  set  by  Jesus. 
Jesus  will  ever  more  completely  draw  men  and  inspire 
them  because  they  will  more  fully  understand  that  He 
explains  them  to  themselves. 

The  present  degradation  of  human  life  is  due  to  man's 
refusal  to  accept  Christ's  estimate  of  its  values  and  duties. 
It  will  endure  so  long  as  the  work  and  Person  of  Christ 
are  refused  their  right  place  in  human  thought  and 
aspiration. 

Jesus  still  lives,  great  and  unexplained. 

From  these  quotations  it  will  be  seen  that  Canon 
Barnes  is  not  searching  the  documents  of  Christianity 
for  a  new  hypothesis,  but  rather  for  a  new  understand- 
ing by  which  he  may  be  able  to  present  the  historic 
power  of  Christianity  in  terms  of  modern  thought. 
Jesus  remains  for  him  the  central  Figure  of  evolution. 
"Human  thought,"  he  declares,  "as  moulded  by 
developed  aspirations  and  accumulated  knowledge,  will 


134  PAINTED  WINDOWS 

not  sweep  past  Jesus  but  will  circle  round  Him  as  the 
centre  where  God  revealed  Himself." 

Perhaps  we  shall  best  understand  the  position  of 
Canon  Barnes  if  we  see  him,  neither  on  this  side  nor 
on  that  of  the  warring  controversy,  but  rather  among 
the  entire  host  of  Christianity,  warning  all  schools 
of  thought,  all  parties,  all  sects,  that  they  must  prepare 
themselves  for  the  final  strife  which  is  yet  to  come, 
that  great  strife,  foreseen  by  Newman,  when  the  two 
contrary  principles  of  human  life,  the  Good  and  the 
Evil,  shall  rush  upon  each  other  contending  for  the  soul 
of  the  world.  Christianity  must  become  united  and 
strong  at  its  centre,  if  it  is  to  withstand  this  onslaught. 

He  is  not  to  be  thought  of  as  one  who  would  adapt 
religion  to  the  needs  of  the  day,  but  as  one  who  believes 
that,  thoroughly  understood,  religion  is  adequate  to  the 
needs,  not  only  of  our  day,  but  to  the  needs  of  all  time. 
For  to  Canon  Barnes,  religion  is  simply  the  teaching  of 
Christ,  and  Christ  is  the  revelation  to  man  of  God's 
nature  and  purpose.  He  would  simplify  dogma  in 
order  to  clarify  truth.  He  would  clarify  truth  in  order 
to  enlarge  the  opportunities  of  Christ.  He  would  call 
no  man  a  heretic  who  is  not  serving  the  devil.  None 
who  seeks  to  enter  the  Kingdom  will  ever  be  hindered 
by  this  devout  disciple  of  truth  in  whose  blood  is  no 
drop  of  the  toxin  of  Pharisaism. 

You  may  see  the  intellectual  charity  of  the  man  in 
his  attitude  towards  other  teachers  of  our  time  whose 
views  are  opposed  to  his  own.     Of  Dean  Inge  he  has 


CANON  E.  W.  BARNES  I35 

spoken  to  me  with  almost  a  ringing  enthusiasm,  em- 
phasizing his  unbounded  force,  his  unbounded  courage; 
and  of  Bishop  Gore  with  the  deepest  respect,  paying 
reverent  tribute  to  his  spiritual  earnestness;  even  the 
Bishop  of  Zanzibar  provokes  only  a  smile  of  the  most 
cheerful  good  humoiur. 

He  inclines  quietly  towards  optimism,  believing  in 
the  providence  of  God  and  thinking  that  the  recent 
indifference  to  religion  is  passing  away.  Men  are  now 
seeking,  and  to  seek  is  eventually  to  find.  This  seeking, 
he  observes,  is  among  the  latest  utterances  of  theology, 
a  fact  of  considerable  importance.  To  keep  abreast  of 
truth  one  must  neither  go  back  nor  stand  still.  Men 
are  now  not  so  much  swallowing  great  names  as  looking 
for  a  candle. 

Not  long  ago  he  paid  a  visit  to  a  favoiurite  book- 
shop of  his  in  Cambridge,  and  inquired  for  second-hand 
volumes  of  theology.  "I  have  nothing  here,"  replied 
the  bookseller,  "that  would  interest  you.  The  books 
you  would  like  go  out  the  day  after  they  come  in,  some- 
times the  same  day."  Then  pointing  to  the  upper 
shelves,  "But  I've  plenty  of  the  older  books " ;  and  there 
in  the  dust  and  neglect  of  the  top  shelves  Canon  Barnes 
siu-veyed  the  works  of  grave  and  portentous  theologians 
who  wrote,  some  before  the  days  of  Darwin,  and  some 
in  the  first  heyday  of  Darwinism.  He  said  to  me, 
"Lightfoot  is  still  consulted,  but  even  Westcott  is  now 
neglected." 

He  spoke  of  two  difficulties  for  the  Church.    One  is 


136  PAINTED  WINDOWS 

this:  her  supreme  need  at  the  present  time  is  men 
for  the  ministry,  the  best  kind  of  men,  more  men 
and  much  better  men,  men  of  learning  and  character, 
able  to  teach  with  persuasive  authority.  It  is  not 
the  voice  of  atheism  we  hear;  it  is  the  voice  of  the 
Church  that  we  miss.  But,  as  Bishop  Gore  claims, 
most  of  the  theological  colleges  are  in  the  hands  of 
the  traditionahsts,  and  the  tendency  of  these  colleges 
is  to  turn  out  priests  rather  than  teachers,  formalists 
rather  than  evangelists.  Such  colleges  as  represent  the 
evangelical  movement  are,  thanks  to  their  title  deeds, 
largely  in  the  hands  of  pious  laymen  not  very  well 
educated,  who  adhere  rigidly  to  a  school  of  thought 
which  is  associated  in  the  modern  mind  with  an  extreme 
of  narrowness.  Thus  it  comes  about  that  many  men 
who  might  serve  the  Church  with  great  power  are  driven 
away  at  her  doors.  Something  must  be  done  to 
get  men  whose  love  of  truth  is  a  part  of  their  love  of 
God. 

The  second  difficulty  concerns  the  leadership  of 
the  Church.  Bishops  should  be  men  with  time  to 
think,  able  when  they  address  mankind  to  speak  from 
"the  top  of  the  mind";  scholars  rather  than  adminis- 
trators, saints  rather  than  statesmen;  but  such  is  the 
present  condition  that  a  man  who  is  made  a  bishop 
finds  himself  so  immersed  in  the  business  of  a  great 
institution  that  his  intellectual  and  spiritual  life 
become  things  of  accident,  luxurious  things  to  be 
squeezed  into  the  odd  moments,  if  there  are  any,  of  an 


CANON  E.  W.  BARNES  137 

almost  breathless  day.  This  is  not  good  for  the  Church. 
The  world  is  not  asking  for  mechanism.  It  is  asking 
for  light.  It  is,  indeed,  an  over-organised  world  work- 
ing in  the  dark. 

Canon  Barnes,  however,  is  not  concerned  only  with 
the  theological  aspects  of  Christianity.  For  him, 
religion  is  above  all  other  things  a  social  force,  a  great 
cleansing  and  sanctifying  influence  in  the  daily  Hfe  of 
evolving  man.  One  may  obtain  a  just  idea  of  his  mind 
from  a  pronouncement  he  made  at  the  last  conference  of 
Modern  Churchmen: 

We  cannot  call  ourselves  Christians  unless  we  recognise 
that  we  must  preach  the  Gospel;  that  we  must  go  out 
and  labour  to  bring  men  and  women  to  Christ. 

The  Kingdom  of  God  is  a  social  ideal. 

Modern  Churchmen  cannot  stand  aloof  from  intellect- 
ual, political,  and  economic  problems. 

To  bring  the  Gospel  into  the  common  life,  to  carry 
the  message  and  sympathies  of  Jesus  into  the  factory, 
the  street,  the  house,  is  an  urgent  necessity  in  our  age. 

He  sees  Christianity,  not  as  an  interesting  school  of 
philosophy,  not  as  a  charming  subject  for  brilliant 
and  amicable  discussions,  but  as  a  force  essential 
to  the  salvation  of  mankind;  a  force,  however,  which 
must  first  be  disentangled  from  the  accretions  of  ancient 
error  before  it  can  work  its  transforming  miracles  both 
in  the  heart  of  men  and  in  the  institutions  of  a  mate- 
rialistic civilisation.  It  is  in  order  that  it  should  thus 
work  in  the  world,  saving  the  world  and  fulfilling  the 


138  PAINTED  WINDOWS 

purposes  of  God,  that  he  labours  in  no  particular  school 
of  the  Church,  to  make  the  reasonableness  of  Christ 
a  living  possession  of  the  modern  mind. 

Supreme  in  his  character  is  that  virtue  Dr.  Johnson 
observed  and  praised  in  a  Duke  of  Devonshire — "a 
dogged  veracity." 


GENERAL  BRAMWELL  BOOTH 

Booth,  W.  Bramwell,  General  of  the  Salvation  Army  since  1912 ;  e.  s. 
of  late  General  Booth;  b.  Halifax,  8  March,  1856;  m.  1882,  Florence 
Eleanor;  two  s.  four  d.  Educ:  Privately.  Commenced  public  work 
1874;  Chairman  of  the  S.  A.  Life  Assurance  Society  and  the  Reliance 
Bank;  Chief  of  Staff,  Salvation  Army,  1880-1912.  Publications: 
Books  that  Bless;  Our  Master;  Servants  of  All;  Social  Reparation;  On  the 
Banks  of  the  River;  Bible  Battle- Axes;  Life  and  Religion;  and  various 
pamphlets  on  Social  and  Religious  Subjects. 


GENERAL  BRAMWELL   BOOTH 


CHAPTER  VIII 

GENERAL  BRAMWELL  BOOTH 

.  .  ,  jor  the  generality  of  men,  the  attempt  to  live  such  a 
life  would  he  a  fatal  mistake;  it  would  narrow  instead  of  widen- 
ing their  minds,  it  would  harden  instead  of  softening  their 
hearts.  Indeed,  the  effort  "thus  to  go  beyond  themselves,  and 
wind  themselves  too  high,''  might  even  he  followed  hy  reaction 
to  a  life  more  profane  and  self-indulgent  than  that  of  the  world 
in  general. — Edward  Caird. 

Because  General  Booth  wears  a  uniform  he  com- 
mands the  public  curiosity ;  but  because  of  that  curios- 
ity the  public  perhaps  misses  his  considerable  abiUties 
and  his  singular  attraction.  His  worst  enemy  is  his 
frogged  coat.  Attention  is  diverted  from  his  head  to 
his  epaulettes.  He  deserves,  I  am  convinced,  a  more 
intelligent  inquisitiveness. 

To  begin  with,  he  is  to  be  regarded  as  the  original 
founder  of  that  remarkable  and  truly  cathoHc  body 
of  Christians  known  as  the  Salvation  Army.  His 
picturesque  father  and  his  wonderful  mother  were 
the  humanity  of  that  movement,  but  their  son  was 
its  first  impulse  of  spiritual  fanaticism.  The  father 
was  the  dramatic  "showman"  of  this  movement,  the 

141 


142  PAINTED  WINDOWS 

son  its  fire.  The  mother  endowed  it  with  the  energy  of 
a  deep  and  tender  emotion,  the  son  provided  it  with 
machinery. 

It  was  Mr.  Bramwell  Booth,  with  his  young  friend 
Mr.  Railton  abetting  him,  who,  discontented  with 
the  dullness  and  conservatism  of  the  Christian  Mission, 
drove  the  Reverend  WiUiam  Booth,  an  ex-Methodist 
minister  preaching  repentance  in  the  slums,  to  fling 
restraint  of  every  kind  to  the  winds  and  to  go  in  for 
rehgion  as  if  it  were  indeed  the  only  thing  in  the  world 
that  counted.  WilHam  Booth  at  that  time  was  forty- 
nine  years  of  age. 

Again,  it  was  Mr.  Bramwell  Booth,  working  behind 
the  scenes  and  pulling  all  the  strings,  who  edged  his 
father  away  from  concluding  an  alliance  with  the 
Church  of  England  in  the  early  eighties.  Archbishop 
Benson  was  anxious  to  conclude  that  alliance,  on  terms. 
The  terms  did  not  seem  altogether  onerous  to  the  old 
General,  who  was  rather  fond  of  meeting  dignitaries. 
But  Mr.  Bramwell  Booth  would  hear  of  no  concession 
which  weakened  the  Army's  authority  in  the  slums, 
and  which  would  also  eventually  weaken  its  authority 
in  the  world.  He  refused  to  acknowledge  any  service  or 
rite  of  the  Church  as  essential  to  the  salvation  of  men. 
If  the  Lord's  Supper  were  essential  the  Army  would 
have  it;  but  the  Army  had  proved  that  no  other  power 
was  necessary  to  the  working  of  miracles  in  the  souls  of 
men  beyond  the  direct  mercy  of  God  acting  on  the  centre 
of  truepenitence.    He  was  the  uncompromising  protago- 


GENERAL  BRAMWELL  BOOTH  143 

nist  of  conversion,  and  his  father  came  to  agree  with 
him. 

Neither  the  old  General  nor  his  inspired  wife,  admir- 
able as  revivalists,  had  the  true  fire  of  fanaticism  in  their 
blood.  They  were  too  warm-hearted.  That  strange 
unearthly  fire  burns  only  to  its  whitest  heat,  per- 
haps, in  veins  which  are  cold  and  minds  which  are 
hard.  It  does  not  easily  make  its  home  in  benevolent 
and  philanthropic  natures,  certainly  never  in  purely 
sentimental  natures.  I  think  its  opening  is  made  not 
by  love  but  by  hatred.  A  man  may  love  God  with  all 
his  heart,  all  his  mind,  and  all  his  soul,  without  feeling 
the  spur  of  fanaticism  in  his  blood.  But  let  him  hate 
sin  with  only  a  part  of  his  heart,  mind,  and  soul,  and  he 
becomes  a  fanatic.  His  hatred  will  grow  till  it  con- 
sumes his  whole  being. 

One  need  not  be  long  in  the  company  of  General 
Bramwell  Booth  to  discover  that  he  has  two  distinct 
and  separate  manners,  and  that  neither  expresses 
the  whole  truth  of  his  rational  life.  At  one  moment 
he  is  full  of  cheerful  good  sense,  the  very  incarna- 
tion of  jocular  heartiness,  a  bluff,  laughing,  rallying, 
chafing,  and  tolerant  good  fellow,  overflowing  with  the 
milk  of  human  kindness,  oozing  with  the  honey  of  social 
sweetness.  At  the  next  moment,  however,  the  voice 
sinks  suddenly  to  the  key  of  what  Father  Knox,  I  am 
afraid,  would  call  unctimoniousness,  the  eyelids  flutter 
like  the  wings  of  a  butterfly,  the  whole  plump  pendulous 
face  appears  to  vibrate  with  emotion,  the  body  becomes 


144  PAINTED  WINDOWS 

stiff  with  feeling,  the  lips  depressed  with  tragedy,  and 
the  dark  eyes  shine  with  the  suppressed  tears  of  an 
unimaginable  pathos. 

In  both  of  these  moments  there  is  no  pretence. 
The  two  manners  represent  two  genuine  aspects  of  his 
soul  in  its  commerce  with  mankind.  He  believes  that 
the  world  likes  to  be  clapped  on  the  shoulder,  to  be 
rallied  on  its  manifest  inconsistencies,  and  to  have  its 
hand  wrung  with  a  real  heartiness.  Also  he  believes 
that  the  heart  of  the  world  is  sentimental,  and  that 
an  authentic  appeal  in  that  quarter  may  lead  to  friend- 
ship— a  friendship  which,  in  its  turn,  may  lead  to 
business.     Business  is  the  true  end  of  all  his  heartiness. 

It  is  in  his  business  manner  that  one  gets  nearer  to 
the  innermost  secret  of  his  nature.  He  is  before  every- 
thing else  a  superb  man  of  business,  far-seeing,  practical, 
hard-headed,  an  organiser  of  victory,  a  statesman  of 
the  human  soul.  You  cannot  speak  to  him  in  this 
practical  sphere  without  feeling  that  he  is  a  man  of  the 
most  unusual  ability. 

He  can  outline  a  complicated  scheme  with  a  precision 
and  an  economy  of  words  which,  he  makes  you  feel,  is  a 
tribute  to  your  perspicacity  rather  than  a  demon- 
stration of  his  own  powers  of  exposition.  He  comes 
quicker  to  the  point  than  nine  men  of  business  out  of 
ten.  And  he  sticks  to  the  main  point  with  a  tenacity 
which  might  be  envied  by  every  industrial  magnate  in 
the  country. 

Moreover,  when  it  comes  to  your  turn  to  speak  he 


GENERAL  BRAMWELL  BOOTH  145 

listens  with  the  whole  of  his  attention  strung  up  to 
its  highest  pitch,  his  eyes  wide  open  staring  at  you, 
his  mouth  pursed  up  into  a  little  O  of  suction,  his 
fingers  pressing  to  his  ear  the  receiver  of  a  machine 
which  overcomes  his  deafness,  his  whole  body  leaning 
half  across  the  table  in  his  eagerness  to  hear  every  word 
you  say. 

No  sentiment  shows  in  his  face,  no  emotion  sounds 
in  his  voice.  He  is  pure  mind,  a  practical  mind  taut 
with  attention.  If  he  have  occasion  in  these  moments 
to  ring  the  bell  for  an  adjutant  or  a  colonel,  that  official 
is  addressed  with  the  brevity  and  directness  of  a 
manager  giving  an  order  to  his  typist.  Instead  of  a  text 
over  his  mantelpiece  one  might  expect  to  find  the 
commercial  legend,  "Business  Is  Business." 

Here,  as  I  have  said,  one  is  nearer  to  the  truth  of  his 
nature,  for  General  Booth  is  an  organiser  who  loves 
organisation,  a  diplomatist  who  delights  in  measiu-ing 
his  intelligence  against  the  recalcitrance  of  mankind,  a 
general  who  finds  a  deep  satisfaction  of  soul  in  moving 
masses  of  men  to  achieve  the  purpose  of  his  own  design. 

But  even  here  one  is  not  at  the  innermost  secret  of 
this  extraordinary  man's  nature. 

At  the  back  of  everything,  I  am  convinced,  is  the 
cold  and  commanding  intensity  of  a  really  great  fanatic. 
He  believes  as  no  little  child  believes  in  God  and  Satan, 
Heaven  and  Hell,  and  the  eternal  conflict  of  God  and 
Evil.  He  believes,  too,  as  few  priests  of  orthodox 
churches  believe,  that  a  man  must  in  very  truth  be  born 

10 


146  PAINTED  WINDOWS 

again  before  he  can  inherit  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven; 
that  is  to  say,  before  he  can  escape  the  unimaginable 
agonies  of  an  eternal  dismissal  from  the  Presence  of  God. 
But  more  than  anything  else  he  believes  that  sin  is 
hateful ;  a  monstrous  perversion  to  be  attacked  with  all 
the  fury  of  a  good  man's  soul. 

There  is  violence  in  his  mind  and  violence  in  his 
religion.  He  believes  in  fighting  the  devil,  and  he 
delights  in  fighting  him.  I  will  not  say  that  there 
is  more  joy  at  Salvation  Army  Headquarters  over 
one  poor  miserable  brand  plucked  from  the  burning 
than  over  ninety  and  nine  cheques  from  wealthy  sub- 
scribers; but  I  am  perfectly  confident  that  the  pleasure 
experienced  at  the  sight  of  all  those  welcome  cheques 
has  its  rise  in  the  knowledge  that  money  is  power — • 
power  to  fight  the  devil. 

No  man  of  my  knowledge  is  so  strangely  blended 
as  this  genius  of  Salvation  Army  organisation.  For 
although  he  is  first  and  foremost  a  calm  statesman 
of  religious  fervour,  cool-headed,  clear-eyed,  and 
deliberative,  a  man  profoundly  inspired  by  hatred 
of  evil,  yet  there  are  moments  in  his  life  of  almost 
superhuman  energy  when  the  whole  structure  of 
his  mind  seems  to  give  way,  and  the  spirit  appears  hke  a 
child  lost  in  a  dark  wood  and  almost  paralysed  with 
fear.  Not  seldom  he  was  in  his  father's  arms  sobbing 
over  the  sufferings  of  humanity  and  the  hardness  of 
the  world's  heart,  mingling  his  tears  with  his  father's. 
Often  in  these  late  days  he  is  in  sore  need  of  Mrs. 


GENERAL  BRAMWELL  BOOTH  147 

Bramwell  Booth's  level-headed  good  sense  to  restore 
his  exhausted  emotions.  And  occasionally,  like  Lord 
Northcliffe,  it  is  wise  for  him  to  get  away  from  the 
Machine  altogether,  to  travel  far  across  the  world  or  to 
rest  in  a  cottage  by  the  sea,  waiting  for  a  return  of 
the  energy  which  consumes  him  and  yet  keeps  him 
alive. 

It  is  possible  to  think  that  this  formidable  apostle 
of  conversion  is  himself  a  divided  self.  His  house  of 
clay,  one  might  almost  suggest,  is  occupied  by  two 
tenants,  one  of  whom  would  weep  over  sinners,  while 
the  other  can  serve  God  only  by  cudgelling  the  Devil 
back  to  hell  with  imprecations  of  a  rich  and  florid 
nature.  This  stronger  self,  because  of  its  cudgel,  is  in 
command  of  the  situation,  but  the  whimpering  of  the 
other  is  not  to  be  stilled  by  blows  which,  however 
hearty  and  devastating,  have  not  yet  brought  the  devil 
to  his  knees. 

It  is  interesting  to  sit  in  conversation  with  this 
devoted  disciple  of  evangelicalism,  and  occasionally 
to  lift  one's  eyes  from  his  face  to  the  portrait  of  his 
mother  which  hangs  above  his  head.  The  two  faces 
are  almost  identical,  hauntingly  identical ;  so  much  so 
that  one  comes  to  regard  the  coachman-like  whiskers 
clapped  to  the  General's  cheeks  as  in  the  nature  of  a 
disguise,  thinking  of  him  as  his  mother's  eldest  daughter 
rather  than  as  his  father's  eldest  son.  There  is  certainly 
nothing  about  him  which  suggests  the  old  General,  and 
his  mind  is  much  more  the  mind  of  his  mother — one 


148  PAINTED  WINDOWS 

of  the  most  remarkable  women  in  the  world's  history — 
than  the  mind  of  his  father. 

Catherine  Booth  was  a  zealot  and  at  the  heart  of  her 
theology  a  hard  zealot.  She  believed  that  the  physical 
agony  of  disease  was  a  part  of  God's  discipline,  and  that 
humanity  is  called  upon  to  bear  that  fierce  fire  for  the 
purification  of  its  wicked  spirit.  She  never  flinched  in 
confronting  the  theology  of  Methodism .  She  was  in  prac- 
tice the  tenderest  of  women,  the  most  compassionate  of 
missionaries,  the  most  persuasive  orator  of  the  emotions 
in  her  day;  but  in  theory  she  was  as  hard  as  steel. 

Her  husband,  on  the  other  hand,  who  threw 
Jehovah's  thunderbolts  across  the  world  as  if  he  Uked 
them,  and  approved  of  them,  and  was  ready  for  any 
further  number  of  these  celestial  missiles,  of  an  even 
vaster  displacement,  was  in  his  heart  of  hearts  a  wistful 
behever  in  everlasting  mercy.  Few  men  have  been 
born  with  a  softer  heart.  He  sometimes  wondered 
whether  in  framing  the  Regulations  of  the  Salvation 
Army  he  had  not  pressed  too  hard  on  human  nature. 
To  the  horrified  scandal  of  his  son,  he  even  came  to 
question,  if  only  for  a  passing  moment,  the  ordinance 
which  forbids  tobacco  to  the  Salvationist. 

He  used  to  say  in  his  old  age,  ruminating  over  the 
past,  "Our  standard  is  high.  Our  demand  is  hard; 
aye,  very  hard.  Yes,  we  don't  mince  matters  in  soul- 
saving.  We  demand  the  whole  of  a  man,  not  a  little 
bit  of  him,  or  three-fourths  of  him,  or  two-thirds  of  him ; 
we  demand  every  drop  of  his  blood  and  every  beat  of  his 


GENERAL  BRAMWELL  BOOTH  149 

heart  and  every  thought  of  his  brain.  Yes,  it's  a  hard 
discipline — hard  because  the  standard  is  so  high.  I 
hope  it  is  not  too  hard." 

His  son  has  never  once,  so  far  as  my  knowledge  goes, 
questioned  even  the  extremest  of  Salvation  Army  Regu- 
lations. The  more  extreme  they  are,  the  more  they 
please  him.  It  is  one  of  his  many  good  sayings  that 
you  cannot  make  a  man  clean  by  washing  his  shirt.  His 
scrubbing  brush  is  dpt,  I  think,  to  remove  some  of  the 
skin  with  the  dirt.  He  beHeves  without  question  that 
the  only  human  test  of  conversion  is  the  uttermost 
wiUingness  of  the  soul  to  be  spent  in  the  service  of  soul- 
saving.  If  a  man  wishes  to  keep  anything  back  from 
God,  his  heart  is  not  given  to  God.  He  is  no  emotion- 
alist in  this  matter.  He  uses  emotion  to  break  down 
the  resistance  of  a  sinner,  but  when  once  the  surrender 
is  made  reason  takes  command  of  the  illumined  soul. 
He  was  asked  on  one  occasion  if  he  did  not  regard 
emotion  as  a  dangerous  thing.  "Not  when  it  is 
organised,"  was  his  reply. 

The  only  concession  he  seems  wiUing  to  make  to  the 
critics  of  the  Salvation  Army  is  in  the  matter  of  its 
hymns.  He  confesses  that  some  of  those  hymns  are 
crude  and  unlovely;  but  examine  this  confession  and 
you  find  that  it  is  only  the  language  which  causes  him 
uneasiness.  Approach  him  on  the  subject  of  dogma, 
the  dogma  crudely  expressed  but  truthfully  expressed 
in  the  worst  of  those  hymns,  and  he  is  as  hard  as 
Bishop  Gore  or  Father  Knox. 


150  PAINTED  WINDOWS 

He  has  been  too  busy,  I  think,  to  hear  even  a  whisper 
from  the  field  of  modernism,  though  exaggerated 
rumours  of  what  is  taking  place  in  that  field  must 
occasionally  reach  his  ear  and  confirm  him  in  his 
obscurantism. 

Perhaps  it  is  all  to  the  good  that  he  should  be  thus 
wholly  uninterested  in  the  speculations  of  the  trained 
theologian.  He  has  other  work  to  do,  and  work  of  great 
importance,  with  few  rivals  and  no  helpers.  By  the 
machine  which  he  controls  so  admirably,  men  and 
women  all  over  the  world,  and  usually  in  the  darkest 
places  of  the  world,  are  tiu-ned  from  living  disastrous 
lives,  lives  which  too  often  involve  the  suffering  of 
children,  and  encouraged  and  braced  up  to  lead  lives  of 
great  beauty  and  an  extreme  of  self-sacrifice. 

He  does  well,  I  think,  to  stick  with  the  unwavering 
and  uncompromising  tenacity  of  a  fanatic  to  that  cen- 
tre of  the  Christian  religion  from  which  was  derived 
in  the  first  two  centuries  of  its  great  history  almost  all 
impetus  which  enabled  it  to  escape  from  Judaism  and 
conquer  the  world.  It  is  still  true,  and  I  suppose  it 
will  remain  true  to  the  end  of  time,  that  man  born  of  a 
woman  must  be  born  again  of  the  spirit  if  he  is  to  pass 
from  darkness  into  light.  This,  after  all,  is  the  whole 
thesis  of  Salvationism,  and  if  General  Booth  wavered 
here  the  Army  would  be  scattered  to  the  winds.  As 
for  his  definitions  of  light  and  darkness,  at  this  stage  of 
the  world's  journey  we  need  not  be  too  nice  in  our 
acceptance  of  them. 


GENERAL  BRAMWELL  BOOTH  151 

But  there  remains  the  important  question  of  Sal- 
vation Army  methods. 

It  seems  to  me  that  here  a  change  is  desirable, 
not  a  radical  change,  for  many  of  those  methods  are 
admirable  enough,  particularly  those  of  which  the 
public  too  seldom  hears,  but  a  change  all  the  same, 
and  one  deep  enough  to  create  fresh  sympathy  for  this 
devoted  movement  of  evangelical  Christianity. 

I  think  it  is  time  to  stop  praying  and  preaching 
at  street  corners,  to  mitigate  the  more  brazen  sounds 
of  the  Army  band,  and  to  discountenance  all  colloquial- 
isms in  Salvationist  propaganda.  I  do  not  wish,  God 
forbid,  to  make  the  Army  respectable;  I  wish  it  to 
remain  exactly  where  it  is — but  with  a  greater  quietness 
and  a  deeper,  more  personal  sympathy  in  its  appeal  to 
the  sad  and  the  sorrowful. 

General  Booth  is  not  the  man  to  make  these  changes, 
but  his  wife  is  a  woman  who  might.  In  any  case  they 
will  be  made.  Time  will  bring  them  about.  Then 
it  will  be  seen,  I  think,  that  the  Salvation  Army  is  one 
of  the  most  powerful  agencies  in  the  world  for  spreading 
the  good  news  of  personal  religion  among  the  depressed 
millions  of  the  human  race.  For  even  at  this  present 
time  the  lasting  work  of  the  Salvationist,  the  work 
which  makes  him  so  noble  and  so  useful  a  figure  in  the 
modern  world,  is  not  accompHshed  by  pageantry  and 
tub-thumping,  but  by  the  intimate,  often  most  beauti- 
ful, and  very  little  known  work  of  its  slum  officers, 
particularly  the  women. 


152  PAINTED  WINDOWS 

Finally,  concerning  the  General,  he  is  in  himself 
a  telling  witness  to  one  of  the  mysterious  powers 
of  the  Christian  religion.  For  he  is  surely  by  tempera- 
ment one  of  the  most  unstable  of  minds,  and  yet  by  the 
power  of  religion  he  has  become  a  coherent  personality 
of  almost  rigid  singleness  of  purpose.  In  conversation 
with  him  one  cannot  help  feeling  that  he  is  jumpy  and 
excitable;  every  movement  of  his  extremely  mobile 
face  suggests  a  soul  of  gutta-percha  stretched  in  all 
directions  by  the  movements  of  his  brain,  and  twitching 
with  every  thought  that  crosses  his  mind ;  but  at  the 
same  time  one  is  aware  in  him  of  a  power  which  is 
never  deflected  by  a  hair's  breadth  from  the  path  of  a 
single  purpose,  and  which  holds  him  together  with  a 
strength  that  may  be  weakened  but  that  can  never  be 

broken. 

His  supreme  value  for  the  student  of  religion  is  to  be 
found  in  the  explanation  of  this  unifying  power.  In 
spite  of  intellectual  shortcomings  which  might  seem 
almost  to  exclude  him  from  the  serious  attention  of 
educated  people,  he  stands  out  with  a  marked  emphasis 
from  the  company  of  far  abler  men  by  reason  of  this 
power — this  sense  of  unusual  vigour  and  abnormal 
concentration  of  strength.  And  the  explanation  of  this 
power,  which  unifies  an  otherwise  incoherent  person- 
ality, is  to  be  found,  I  am  quite  confident,  in  his  burning 
hatred  of  iniquity. 

As  a  boy,  like  the  poet  Gray  and  the  late  Lord 
Salisbury,  he  suffered  a  good  deal  of  bullying,  and 


GENERAL  BRAMWELL  BOOTH  153 

thus  learned  at  school  something  beyond  the  reach  of 
the  Latin  Grammar,  namely,  the  brutality  of  human 
nature.  He  has  never  forgotten  that  discovery. 
Indeed,  his  after-life  has  widened  and  intensified  that 
early  lesson.  Sin  is  brutality.  It  is  selfishness  seeking 
its  low  pleasure  and  its  base  delight  in  vilest  self- 
indulgence  involving  the  suffering  of  others,  sometimes 
their  profoundest  degradation,  even  their  absolute 
destruction.  Particularly  did  he  experience  this  burn- 
ing conviction  when  he  came  to  understand  the  well- 
nigh  inconceivable  brutality  of  sexual  vice.  I  beUeve 
that  it  was  a  poor  harlot  in  the  slums  of  London  who 
first  opened  for  him  the  door  of  fanaticism. 

He  had  longed  as  a  schoolboy  to  hit  back  at  his 
tyrants,  and  now  in  the  dawn  of  manhood  that  long 
repression  made  its  weight  felt  in  the  blows  he  showered 
on  the  face  of  evil.  For  a  year  or  two  he  was  a  wild 
man  of  evangelicalism,  leading  attacks  on  evil,  challeng- 
ing public  attention,  seeking  imprisonment,  courting 
martyrdom.  It  was  from  the  flaming  indignation  of 
his  soul  that  Mr.  Stead  took  fire,  and  led  a  crusade 
against  impurity  which  shocked  the  conscience  of  the 
eighties.  But  so  deep  and  eternal  was  this  hatred  of 
evil,  that  General  Booth  soon  came  to  see  that  he  must 
express  it  in  some  manner  which  would  outlive  the 
heady  moments  of  a  "lightning  campaign."  He 
settled  down  to  express  that  profound  abhorrence 
of  iniquity  in  terms  of  organisation.  Tares  might 
be  torn  suddenly  from  the  human  heart,  but  not  the 


154  PAINTED  WINDOWS 

root  of  evil.  If  he  could  not  kill  the  devil,  at  least  he 
could  circumvent  him. 

Such  intense  hatred  of  evil  as  still  consumes  his 
being  is  not  popular  in  these  days,  and  may  perhaps 
be  regarded  as  irrational.  But  we  should  do  well 
to  remind  ourselves  that  while  those  who  regard  evil 
merely  as  a  vestigial  memory  of  human  evolution  do 
little  or  nothing  to  check  its  ravages,  men  like  General 
Booth,  and  the  men  and  women  inspired  by  his  abhor- 
rence, save  every  year  from  physical  and  moral 
destruction  thousands  of  unhappy  people  who  become 
at  once  the  apostles  of  an  extreme  goodness. 

Such  evidences  of  mediocrity  as  exist  in  the  Sal- 
vationist are  purely  intellectual ;  morally  and  spiritually 
he  is  in  the  advance  guard  of  the  human  race. 


DR.  W.  E.  ORCHARD 

Orchard,  Rev.  William  Edwin,  Minister  of  the  King's  Weigh  House 
Church,  Duke  Street,  W.,  since  1914;  b.  20  Nov.,  1887; e.  s.  of  John 
Orchard,  Rugby;  m.  1904,  Anna  Maria  (d.  1920),  widow  of  Rev.  Ellis 
Hewitt  of  Aldershot.  Educ:  Board  School;  private  tuition;  West- 
minster College,  Cambridge.  Ordained,  Enfield,  1904,  B.D.,  London, 
1905,  D.D.,  London,  1909. 


OR.  W.    E.    ORCHARD 


CHAPTER  IX 

DR.   W.   E.   ORCHARD 

O,  you  poor  creatures  in  the  large  cities  of  wide-world 
politics,  you  young,  gifted,  ambition-tormented  men,  who 
consider  it  your  duty  to  give  your  opinion  on  everything  that 
occurs;  who,  by  thus  raising  dust  and  noise,  mistake  yourselves 
for  the  chariot  of  history;  who,  being  always  en  the  look-out  for 
an  opportunity  to  put  in  a  word  or  two,  lose  all  true  productive- 
ness. However  desirous  you  may  be  of  doing  great  deeds,  the 
profound  silence  of  pregnancy  never  comes  to  you.  The  event 
of  the  day  sweeps  you  along  like  chaff,  while  you  fancy  that  you 
are  chasing  it. — Nietzsche. 

Until  quite  the  other  day  I  looked  upon  Dr.  Orchard 
as  a  person  unique  in  his  generation.  But  I  am  now 
told  by  an  authority  in  the  nonconformist  world  that 
there  are  "two  others  of  him" — one,  I  think,  in  Birm- 
ingham, the  second  in  Clapham. 

I  am  still  permitted  to  think,  however,  that  to 
Dr.  Orchard  belongs  the  distinction  of  being  the 
first  person  of  this  erratic  trinity,  and  therefore  we  may 
still  regard  him  with  that  measure  of  curiosity  which  is 
the  tribute  paid  by  simple  people  to  the  eccentric  and 
the  abnormal. 

But  let  me  warn  the  reader  against  expectations 

157 


158  PAINTED  WINDOWS 

of  an  original  genius.  Dr.  Orchard  does  not  create; 
he  copies.  His  innovations  are  all  made  after  visits 
to  the  lumber-room.  It  is  by  going  back  such  a  long 
distance  into  the  past  that  he  startles,  and  by  coming 
round  full  circle  that  he  appears  to  surprise  the  future. 

But  where  originality  is  rare,  eccentricity  must  not  be 
discounted. 

Dr.  Orchard  is  a  ritualist  in  the  midst  of  non- 
conformity; the  first  Free  Churchman,  I  believe,  to 
entertain  exalted  ceremonial  aspirations,  and  to  kneel 
for  his  orders  at  the  feet  of  an  orthodox  bishop.  One 
might  almost  hazard  the  conjecture  that  he  remains  in 
the  Congregationahst  Communion,  as  so  many  Anglo- 
Catholics  remain  in  the  Establishment,  solely  to  supply 
the  fermentation  of  an  idea  which  will  shatter  its  pres- 
ent constitution.  One  thinks  of  him  as  a  repentant 
Cromwell  restoring  "that  bauble"  to  its  accustomed 
place  on  the  table  of  tradition. 

In  his  heart  of  hearts  he  would  appear  to  be  a  fervent 
institutionalist,  a  lover  of  ceremonial,  and  a  convinced 
sacerdotalist.  To  hear  him  use  the  word  Catholic 
is  to  make  one  understand  how  the  Church  of  Rome 
dazzles  certain  eyes,  and  to  hear  him  claim  that  he  is  in 
the  apostolical  succession  is  to  make  one  realise  afresh 
how  broad  is  the  way  of  credulity. 

One  may  understand  his  dislike  of  the  hideous  and 
pretentious  architecture  which  disgraces  non-conform- 
ity, and  sympathise  with  his  desire  for  more  beautiful 
services  in  nonconformist  chapels ;  but  it  is  not  so  easy, 


DR.  W.  E.  ORCHARD  159 

while  he  remains  a  nonconformist,  to  understand,  or  to 
feel  any  considerable  degree  of  sympathy  with,  his  tend- 
ency towards  practices  which  are  the  very  antithesis  of 
the  nonconformist  tradition. 

All  the  same  he  is  a  person  of  whom  we  should  do 
well  to  take  at  least  a  passing  notice,  for  he  witnesses, 
however  extravagantly,  to  a  movement  in  the  Free 
Churches  which  is  not  likely  to  lose  momentum  with  the 
next  few  years — a  movement  not  only  away  from  sec- 
tarian isolation  but  towards  the  idea  of  one  catholic  and 
apostolic  Church.  There  is  certainly  unrest  in  the  Free 
Churches,  and  Dr.  Orchard  is  a  straw  which  helps  us  to 
understand  if  not  the  permanent  direction  of  the  wind, 
at  least  the  fact  that  there  is  a  breeze  blowing  in  the 
fields  of  religious  freedom. 

Not  long  ago  I  asked  one  of  the  greatest  figures  in  the 
Anglican  Church  what  he  thought  of  Dr.  Orchard.  He 
replied  by  raising  his  eyebrows  and  exclaiming  rather 
disdainfully:  "A  ritualistic  Dissenter!  What  is  it 
possible  to  think  of  him?"  I  said  that  he  attracted  a 
good  many  people  to  his  services  in  the  EHng's  Weigh 
House  Church,  and  that  I  had  heard  Mrs.  Asquith  was 
sometimes  a  member  of  his  congregation.  "That,'' 
answered  the  dignitary,  "would  not  make  me  think  any 
higher  of  Dr.  Orchard." 

For  many  people,  it  must  be  confessed,  he  is  a  slightly 
ludicrous  figure.  He  presents  the  spectacle  of  a  sparrow 
stretching  its  wings  and  opening  its  beak  to  imitate  the 
eagle  of  catholic  lecterns.    And  he  has  a  singularly 


i6o  PAINTED  WINDOWS 

nettling  manner  with  some  people  which  must  add,  I 
should  think,  to  this  unpopularity.  He  seems  sweep- 
ingly  satisfied  with  himself  and  his  opinions,  which  are 
mostly  of  a  challenging  nature.  He  does  not  discuss 
but  attempts  to  browbeat.  His  voice  is  an  argument, 
and  the  expression  on  his  face  and  the  fire  in  his  eyes 
suggest  the  street  corner.  He  would  have  greatly 
distressed  a  man  like  Matthew  Arnold,  for  the  only 
method  against  such  didactics  is  to  send  for  the  boxing 
gloves. 

All  the  same  he  is  a  man  of  no  little  force,  perhaps 
a  scattered  and  dispersed  force,  as  I  am  inclined 
to  think;  and  he  is  a  fighter  whose  blows,  if  not  a 
teacher  whose  opinions,  are  more  worthy  of  attention 
than  his  sacerdotal  pretensions  might  lead  one  to 
suppose. 

In  appearance  he  may  be  compared  with  Dr.  Clifford, 
but  Dr.  Clifford  reduced  to  youthfulness  and  multiplied 
by  an  infinite  cocksureness ;  a  small,  eager,  sandy-haired, 
clean-shaven,  boyish-looking  man,  with  light-coloured 
eyes  behind  shining  spectacles,  the  head  craning  for- 
ward, the  body  elastic  and  restless  with  inexhaustible 
energy,  the  whole  of  him — body,  mind,  and  spirit — 
tremulous  with  a  jerkiness  of  being  which  seems  to  have 
no  effect  whatever  on  his  powers  of  endurance. 

One  misses  in  him  all  feeling,  all  tone,  of  mellowness. 
His  mind,  at  present,  shows  no  lightest  trace  of  the 
hallowing  marks  of  time;  it  suggests  rather  the  very 
architecture  he  takes  so  savage  a  pleasure  in  denouncing 


DR.  W.  E.  ORCHARD  i6i 

—a  kind  of  mock  Gothic  mind,  an  Early  Doulton  per- 
sonality. He  has  a  thin  voice,  rather  husky,  and  a 
recent  accent. 

In  his  most  vigorous  moments,  when  he  is  bubbhng 
over  with  epigrams  and  paradoxes,  ridicuHng  the 
dull  people  who  do  not  agree  with  him,  and  laughing  to 
scorn  those  who  think  they  can  maintain  the  Christian 
spirit  outside  the  mysterious  traditions  of  the  Catholic 
Church,  or  when  he  is  describing  a  recent  church  as  a 
Blancmange  Cathedral,  and  paraphrasing  an  account, 
given  I  think  by  Mr.  James  Douglas,  of  the  building  of  a 
certain  tabernacle  in  London — first  it  started  out  to  be  a 
Jam  Factory,  then  a  happy  idea  occurred  to  the  builder 
that  he  should  turn  it  into  a  Waterworks,  then  the 
foreman  suggested  that  it  would  make  an  ideal  swim- 
ming-bath, but  finally  the  architect  came  on  the  scene 
and  said,  "Here,  half  a  minute;  there's  an  alteration 
wanted  here;  we're  going  to  make  it  into  a  church  " — at 
such  moments.  Dr.  Orchard  might  be  likened  to  a  duo- 
decimo Chesterton — but  a  Chesterton  of  nonconformity. 
For  he  is  a  Httle  crude,  a  little  recent ;  a  mind  without 
mellowness,  a  spirit  without  beauty,  a  soul  which  feeds 
upon  aggression. 

He  makes  an  amusing  figure  with  a  black  cloak 
wrapped  round  his  little  body  in  Byronic  folds,  and  a 
soft  hat  of  black  plush  on  his  head,  a  Vesta  Tilley  quick- 
ness informing  both  his  movements  and  his  speech,  as  he 
nips  forward  in  conversation  with  a  friend,  the  arms, 
invisible  beneath  their  cloak,  pressed  down  in  front  of 


XI 


i62  PAINTED  WNDOWS 

him,  his  body  leaning  forward,  his  peering  eyes  dancing 
behind  their  spectacles. 

Nevertheless,  those  who  most  find  him  only  amusing 
or  worse  still  thoroughly  dislikeable,  who  are  anti- 
pathetic to  the  whole  man,  and  who  thus  cannot  come 
at  the  secret  of  his  influence,  must  confess  that  there  is 
nothing  about  him  either  of  the  smooth  and  oily  or  of 
the  adroit  and  compromising.  He  is  the  last  man  on 
earth  to  be  called  an  opportunist.  This  is  in  his  favour. 
His  aggressiveness  must  put  all  but  the  toughest  against 
him.  He  is  tremendously  in  earnest.  It  would  be 
difficult  I  think  to  exceed  his  sincerity. 

But  not  to  mind  whose  toes  one  may  tread  on  is 
hardly  in  the  style  of  St.  Francis;  and,  after  all,  it  is 
possible  to  be  tremendously  earnest  about  wrong  things, 
and  consumingly  sincere  in  matters  which  are  not  per- 
haps definitely  certain  to  advance  the  higher  life  of  the 
human  race.  Humility  is  always  safest;  indeed,  it  is 
essential  to  all  earnestness  and  sincerity,  if  those  ener- 
gies are  not  to  repel  as  many  as  they  attract. 

Dr.  Orchard's  manner,  which  can  be  extraordinarily 
nettling  in  conversation,  as  I  have  suggested,  is 
evidently  of  a  very  soothing  character  in  the  con- 
fessional— if  that  is  the  proper  term.  He  has  a  remark- 
able following  among  women,  and  it  is  said  that  "if  he 
put  a  brass  plate  on  his  door  and  charged  five  guineas  a 
time"  he  might  be  one  of  the  richest  mind-doctors  in 
London.  He  himself  declares  that  his  real  work  is  al- 
most entirely  personal.    I  have  heard  him  speak  with 


DR.  W.  E.  ORCHARD  163 

some  contempt  of  preaching,  quoting  the  witticism  of  a 
friend  that  "AngHcan  preaching  is  much  worse  than  it 
really  need  be,"  or  words  to  that  effect.  He  likes 
ceremonial  and  private  confidence.  He  has  the  in- 
stincts of  a  priest. 

His  patients  appear  to  be  the  wreckage  of  psycho- 
analysis. It  is  said  that  "half  the  neurotics  of  London ' ' 
consult  him  about  their  souls.  I  have  no  idea  of  the 
manner  in  which  he  treats  these  unhappy  people,  but  I 
am  perfectly  sure  that  he  gives  them  counsel  of  a 
healthy  nature.  There  is  nothing  about  him  which 
suggests  unwholesomeness,  and  much  that  suggests 
sound  strength  and  clean  good  sense.  Also  among  his 
penitents  are  numerous  shopgirls  who  have  lost  in  the 
commercial  struggle  whatever  piety  they  possessed  in 
childhood  and  in  their  craving  for  excitement  have 
gone  astray  from  the  path  of  safe  simplicity — gambling 
on  horse  races  and  often  getting  into  serious  trouble 
by  their  losses.  Dr.  Orchard  may  be  trusted  to  give 
these  weak,  rather  than  erring  daughters  of  London, 
advice  which  would  commend  itself  to  the  Free  Church 
Council,  for  with  all  his  sacerdotal  aberrations  the  basis 
of  his  moral  life  is  rooted  in  Puritanism. 

It  is  an  entirely  good  thing  that  there  should  be  a 
minister  of  religion  in  London  who  attracts  people 
of  this  order,  particularly  a  minister  whose  moral 
notions  are  so  eminently  sane  and  so  steadily  uncom- 
promising. London  is  stronger  and  less  disreputable 
for  Dr.  Orchard's  presence  in  its  midst — no  doubt  a 


i64  PAINTED  WINDOWS 

very  vulgar,  degrading,  and  trivial  midst,  but  all  the 
same  a  great  congestion  of  little  people,  one  where  the 
solemn  note  of  the  old  morality  sounds  all  too  seldom 
across  the  tinkle  of  bells  in  the  caps  of  so  many  fools. 
This  moral  influence,  however,  may  appear  question- 
able in  the  eyes  of  strong-minded  and  unsentimental 
people.  Would  he  exercise  such  personal  power,  it  may 
be  asked,  if  he  were  not  regarded  as  a  "novelty,"  if  the 

eccentricity  of  his  position  in  the  nonconformist  world 

j) 
had  not  so  skilfully  advertised  him  to  a  light  and  foolish 

generation  ever  ready  to  run  after  what  is  new?     Of  an 

Anglican  clergyman's  popularity  I  have  heard  it  said, 

' '  Who  could  not  fill  a  church  with  the  help  of  the  band 

of  the  Grenadier  Guards?" 

I  should  not  like  to  answer  this  question,  and  yet 
I  do  not  like  to  pass  it  by.  Antipathetic  as  I  find 
myself  to  Dr.  Orchard,  it  would  not  be  just  to  imply 
that  the  power  of  his  personal  influence  is  not  a  great 
one,  and  one  of  an  entirely  wholesome  nature.  It 
seems  to  me,  then,  that  the  nature  of  that  which  attracts 
the  unhappy  to  seek  his  counsel  is  of  small  moment  in 
comparison  with  the  extent  and  beneficence  of  his  good 
counsel.  The  fact  that  he  does  help  people,  does  save 
many  people  from  very  unhappy  and  dangerous  situ- 
ations, is  a  fact  which  gives  him  a  title  not  only  to  our 
respect,  but  to  our  gratitude. 

Perhaps  it  is  his  knowledge  of  all  this  petty  misery 
and  sordid  unwholesomeness  which  makes  him  dis- 
posed at  times,  in  spite  of  an  almost  rollicking  tem- 


DR.  W.  E.  ORCHARD  165 

perament,  to  take  dismal  and  despairing  views  of  the 
religious  future. 

I  have  heard  him  say  with  some  bitterness  that 
people  do  not  know  what  Christianity  is,  that  it  has 
been  so  misrepresented  to  them,  and  so  mixed  up  with 
the  quarrels  of  sectarianism,  that  the  heart  of  it  is  really 
non-existent  for  the  multitude.  He  speaks  with 
impatience  of  the  nonconformist  churches  and  with 
contempt  of  the  Anglican  church.  We  are  all  wrong 
together.  Organised  religion,  he  feels,  is  hanging  over 
the  abyss  of  destruction,  while  the  nation  looks  on 
with  an  indifference  which  should  complete  its  self- 
contempt. 

His  quarrel,  however,  is  not  only  with  the  churches, 
but  with  the  nation  as  well.  He  regards  the  system 
under  which  we  live  as  thoroughly  unchristian.  It  is 
the  system  of  mammon — a  system  of  frank,  brutal,  and 
insolent  materialism.     Why  do  we  put  up  with  it? 

His  religious  sense  is  so  outraged  by  this  system  of 
economic  individualism  that  he  bursts  out  with  irritable 
impatience  against  those  who  speak  of  infusing  into  it  a 
more  Christian  spirit.  For  him  the  whole  body  of  our 
industrialism  is  rotten  with  selfishness  andcovetousness, 
the  high  note  of  service  entirely  absent  from  it,  the  one 
energy  which  informs  it  the  energy  of  aggressive  self- 
seeking.  Such  a  system  cannot  be  patched.  It  is 
anti-Christian.     It  should  be  smashed. 

He  plunges  into  economics  with  a  good  deal  of  vigour, 
but  I  do  not  think  he  has  thought  out  to  its  logical 


I66  PAINTED  WINDOWS 

conclusion  his  thesis  of  guild  socialism.  Perhaps  his 
tone  is  here  more  vehement  than  his  knowledge  of  a 
notoriously  difficult  science  altogether  justifies. 

He  opposes  himself  to  the  evolutionary  philosophy 
of  the  nineteenth  century,  and  is  ready  to  defend  the 
idea  of  a  Fall  of  Man.  His  contribution  to  theology 
is  a  quibble.  The  old  dogmas  are  to  stand :  only  the 
language  is  to  be  adjusted  to  the  modern  intelligence. 
You  may  picture  him  with  drawn  sword — a  sword 
tempered  in  inquisitorial  fires — standing  guard  over  his 
quibble  and  ready  to  defend  it  with  his  spiritual  life. 

His  opinions  are  apt  to  place  him  among  minorities. 
He  was  against  the  War,  and  during  that  long-drawn 
agony  attracted  to  himself  the  mild  attention  of  the 
authorities.  I  beheve  he  likened  the  great  struggle  to  a 
battle  between  Sodom  and  Gomorrah.  However,  he 
was  careful  not  to  go  so  far  as  Mr.  Bertrand  Russell. 
As  he  himself  says,  "I  don't  mind  dying  for  Jesus 
Christ,  but  not  for  making  a  silly  ass  of  myself." 

He  occasionally  writes  reviews  for  The  Nation, 
and  has  published  a  number  of  uneventful  books.  His 
writing  is  not  distinguished  or  illuminating.  With 
a  pen  in  his  hand  he  loses  all  his  natural  force.  He 
writes,  I  think,  as  one  who  feels  that  he  is  wasting 
time.  Like  Mr.  Winston  Churchill,  he  diverts  his 
leisure  with  a  paintbrush. 

One  is  disposed  to  judge  that  the  mind  of  this  very 
fiery  particle  is  too  busy  with  side-issues  to  make 
acquaintance  with  the  deeper  mysteries  of  his  religion. 


DR.  W.  E.  ORCHARD  167 

When  he  complains  that  people  do  not  know  what 
Christianity  is,  one  wonders  whether  his  own  definition 
would  satisfy  the  saints.  He  is  a  fighter  rather  than 
a  teacher,  a  man  of  action  rather  than  a  seer.  I 
do  not  think  he  could  be  happy  in  a  world  which 
presented  him  with  no  opportunities  for  punching 
heads. 

Matthew  Arnold,  quoting  from  The  Times  a  sentence 
to  the  effect  that  the  chief  Dissenting  ministers  are 
becoming  quite  the  intellectual  equals  of  the  ablest  of 
the  clergy,  referred  it  to  the  famous  Dr.  Dale  of  Birm- 
ingham, and  remarked:  "I  have  no  fears  concerning 
Mr.  Dale's  intellectual  muscles;  what  I  am  a  little  un- 
easy about  is  his  religious  temper.  The  essence  of 
religion  is  grace  and  peace." 

But  Dr.  Orchard,  we  must  not  fail  to  see,  is  quite 
genuinely  exasperated  by  the  deadness  of  religious  life, 
and  is  straining  every  nerve  to  quicken  the  soul  of 
Christ's  sleeping  Church.  This  discontent  of  his  is  an 
important  symptom,  even  if  his  prescription,  a  very 
old  one,  gives  no  hope  of  a  cure.  He  is  popular,  in- 
fluential, a  figure  of  the  day,  and  still  young ;  yet  his  soul 
is  full  of  rebellion  and  his  heart  is  swelling  with  the 
passion  of  mutiny.  Something  is  evidently  not  right. 
Quite  certainly  he  has  not  discovered  the  peace  that 
passes  understanding. 

But  perhaps  Dr.  Orchard  will  never  be  satisfied  till 
all  men  think  as  he  thinks,  and  until  there  is  only  one 
Chiirch  in  the  world  for  the  expression  of  spiritual 


i68  PAINTED  WINDOWS 

life,   with  either   Bishop  Herford  or  himself  for  its 
pope. 

In  the  meantime  he  is  too  busy  for  the  profound 
silence.     The  event  of  the  day  sweeps  him  before  it. 


BISHOP  TEMPLE 

Manchester,  Bishop  of,  since  1921;  Temple,  Rev.  WiUiam,  M.A.;  D. 
Litt.;  President  Life  and  Liberty  Movement;  Canon  Residentiary  of 
Westminister,  1919-21 ;  Editor  of  The  Challenge,  1915-18;  Hon.  Chaplain 
to  the  King,  1915;  b.  The  Palace,  Exeter,  15  Oct.,  1881 ;  s.  of  Late  Arch- 
bishop of  Canterbury;  m.  1916,  Frances  Gertrude  Acland,  y.  d.  of  F.  H. 
Anson,  72  St.  George's  Square,  S.  W.  Educ:  Rugby  (Scholar) ;  Balliol 
College,  Oxford  (Exhibitioner)  First  class  Classical  Mods.,  1902 ;  ist  class 
Lit.  Hum.,  1904;  President  Oxford  Union,  1904;  Fellow  and  Lecturer  in 
Philosophy,  Queen's  College,  Oxford,  1904-1910;  Deacon,  1908;  Priest, 
1909;  Chaplain  to  Archbishop  of  Canterbury,  1910;  President  of  the 
Workers  Educational  Association;  Headmaster,  Repton  School,  1910-14; 
Rectorof  St.  James's  Piccadilly,  1914-18. 


BISHOP  TEMPLE 


CHAPTER  X 
BISHOP  TEMPLE 

.  .  .  faint,  pale,  embarrassed,  exquisite  Pater!  He  re- 
minds me,  in  the  disturbed  midnight  of  our  actual  literature,  of 
one  of  those  lucent  match-boxes  which  you  place,  on  going  to 
bed,  near  the  candle,  to  show  you,  in  the  darkness,  where  you 
can  strike  a  light:  he  shines  in  the  uneasy  gloom — vaguely,  and 
has  a  phosphorescence,  not  a  flame.  But  I  quite  agree  with 
you  that  he  is  not  of  the  little  day — but  of  the  longer  time. — 
Henry  James. 

The  future  of  Bishop  Temple  is  of  more  importance 
•to  the  Church  than  to  himself.  He  is  one  of  those  solid 
and  outstanding  men  whose  decisions  affect  a  multitude, 
a  man  to  whom  many  look  with  a  confidence  which  he 
himself,  perhaps,  may  never  experience. 

He  cannot,  I  think,  be  wholly  unaware  of  this  con- 
sideration in  forming  his  judgments,  and  I  attribute, 
rather  to  a  keen  and  weighty  sense  of  great  responsi- 
bility than  to  any  lack  of  vital  courage,  his  increasing 
tendency  towards  the  Catholic  position.  One  begins  to 
think  that  he  is  likely  to  disappoint  many  of  those  who 
once  regarded  him  as  the  future  statesman  of  a  Chris- 
tianity somewhat  less  embarrassed  by  institutionalism. 

It  is  probable,  one  fears,  that  he  may  conclude  at 

171 


172  PAINTED  WINDOWS 

Lambeth  a  career  in  theology  comparable  with  that  of 
Mr.  Winston  Churchill  in  politics.  Born  in  the  ecclesi- 
astical purple  he  may  return  to  it,  bringing  with  him 
only  the  sheaves  of  an  already  mouldering  orthodoxy. 

On  one  ground,  however,  there  is  hope  that  he  may 
yet  shine  in  our  uneasy  gloom  with  something  more 
effective  than  the  glow  of  phosphorescence.  He  is  de- 
voted heart  and  soul  to  Labour.  Events,  then,  may 
drive  him  out  of  his  present  course,  and  urge  him  to- 
wards a  future  of  signal  usefulness;  for  Labour  is  a 
force  which  waits  upon  contingency,  and  moves  as  the 
wind  moves — now  softly,  then  harshly,  now  gently, 
then  with  great  violence.  Those  who  go  with  Labour 
are  not  like  travellers  in  the  Tory  coach  or  the  Liberal 
tram ;  they  are  like  passengers  in  a  balloon. 

I  do  not  mean  that  Bishop  Temple  will  ever  be  so 
far  swept  out  of  his  course  as  to  find  himself  among  the 
revolutionaries ;  he  carries  too  much  weight  for  that,  is, 
indeed,  too  solid  a  man  altogether  for  any  lunatic  flights 
to  the  moon;  I  mean,  rather,  that  where  the  more 
reasonable  leaders  of  Labour  are  compelled  to  go  by  the 
force  of  political  and  industrial  events,  William  Temple 
is  likely  to  find  that  he  himself  is  also  expected,  nay, 
but  obliged  to  go,  and  very  easily  that  may  be  a  situa- 
tion from  which  the  Lollard  Tower  of  Lambeth  Palace 
will  appear  rather  romantically  if  not  altogether 
hopelessly  remote. 

His  career,  then,  like  Mr.  Winston  Churchill's  in 
poHtics,  is  still  an  open  event  and  therefore  a  matter 


BISHOP  TEMPLE  173 

for  interesting  speculation.  This  fair-haired,  fresh- 
faced,  and  boylike  Bishop  of  Manchester,  smiling  at  us 
behind  his  spectacles,  the  square  head  very  upright, 
the  broad  shoulders  well  back,  the  whole  short  stocky 
figure  like  a  rock,  confronts  us  with  something  of  the 
challenge  of  the  Sphinx. 

One  of  the  chief  modernists  said  to  me  the  other  day: 
"Temple  is  the  most  dangerous  man  in  the  Church  of 
England.  He  is  not  only  a  socialist,  he  is  also  Gore's 
captive,  bow  and  spear. ' '  But  another,  by  no  means  an 
Anglo-Catholic,  corrected  this  judgment.  "Temple," 
said  he ,  "  is  not  yet  hopelessly  Cathohc .  He  has ,  indeed , 
attracted  to  himself  by  his  Christlike  attitude  towards 
Nonconformists  the  inconvenient  attentions  of  that 
remarkable  person  the  Bishop  of  Zanzibar.  His  sym- 
pathies with  Labour,  which  are  the  core  of  his  being, 

are  sufficient  reason  for 's  mistrust  of  him.    I  do 

not  at  all  regard  him  as  dangerous.  On  the  contrary, 
I  think  he  is  one  of  the  most  interesting  men  in  the 
Church,  and  also,  which  is  far  more  important,  one  of 
its  most  promising  leaders." 

So  many  men,  so  many  opinions.  Strangely  enough 
it  is  from  an  Anglo-CathoHc  who  is  also  a  Labour  en- 
thusiast that  I  hear  the  fiercest  and  most  uncompromis- 
ing criticism  of  this  young  Bishop  of  Manchester. 

"All  his  successes  have  been  failures.  He  went  to 
Repton  with  a  tremendous  reputation;  did  nothing; 
went  to  St.  James's,  Piccadilly,  as  a  man  who  would  set 
the  Thames  on  fire,  failed,  and  went  to  Westminster 


174  PAINTED  WINDOWS 

with  a  heightened  reputation;  left  it  for  the  Life  and 
Liberty  Movement,  which  has  done  nothing,  and  then 
on  to  Manchester  as  the  future  Archbishop  of  Canter- 
bury. What  has  he  done?  What  has  he  ever 
done? 

"He  can't  stick  at  anything;  certainly  he  can't  stick 
at  his  job — always  he  must  be  doing  something  else. 
I  don't  regard  him  as  a  reformer.  I  regard  him  as  a 
talker.  He  has  no  strength.  Sometimes  I  think  he  has 
no  heart.  Intellectual,  yes;  but  intellectual  without 
pluck.  I  don't  know  how  his  brain  works.  I  give  that 
up.  I  agree,  he  joined  the  Labour  movement  before 
he  was  ordained.  There  I  think  he  is  sincere,  perhaps 
devoted.  But  is  there  any  heart  in  his  devotion  ?  Do 
the  poor  love  him  ?  Do  the  Labour  leaders  hail  him  as 
a  leader?  I  don't  think  so.  Perhaps  I'm  prejudiced. 
Whenever  I  go  to  see  him,  he  gives  me  the  impression 
that  he  has  got  his  watch  in  his  hand  or  his  eye  on  the 
clock.  An  inhuman  sort  of  person — no  warmth,  no 
sympathy,  not  one  tiniest  touch  of  tenderness  in  his 
whole  nature.  No.  WiUie  Temple  is  the  very  man  the 
Church  of  England  doesn't  want." 

Finally,  one  of  those  men  in  the  Anglo-Catholic 
Party  to  whom  Dr.  Temple  looks  up  with  reverence 
and  devotion,  said  to  me  in  the  midst  of  generous  lauda- 
tion :  ' '  His  trouble  is  that  he  doesn't  concentrate.  He 
is  inclined  to  leave  the  main  thing.  But  I  hear  he  is 
really  concentrating  on  his  work  at  Manchester,  and 
therefore  I  have  hopes  that  he  will  justify  the  confidence 


BISHOP  TEMPLE  I75 

of  his  friends.  He  is  certainly  a  very  able  man,  very; 
there  can  be  no  question  of  that." 

It  will  be  best,  I  think,  to  glance  first  of  all  at  this 
question  of  ability. 

Dr.  Temple  has  a  notable  gift  of  rapid  statement 
and  pellucid  exposition.  One  doubts  if  many  theolo- 
gians in  the  whole  course  of  Christian  history  have 
covered  more  ground  more  trippingly  than  Dr.  Temple 
covers  in  two  little  books  called  The  Faith  and  Modern 
Thought,  and  The  Kingdom  of  God.  His  wonderful  pow- 
ers of  succinct  statement  may  perhaps  give  the  impres- 
sion of  shallowness;  but  this  is  an  entirely  false  impres- 
sion— no  impression  could  indeed  be  wider  of  the  mark. 
His  learning,  though  not  so  wide  as  Dean  Inge's,  nor 
so  specialised  as  the  learning  of  Canon  Barnes,  is 
nevertheless  true  learning,  and  learning  which  has  been 
close  woven  into  the  fabric  of  his  intellectual  life.  There 
are  but  few  men  in  the  Church  of  England  who  have 
a  stronger  grip  on  knowledge;  and  very  few,  if  any 
at  all,  who  can  more  clearly  and  vividly  express  in 
simple  language  the  profoundest  truths  of  reHgion  and 
philosophy. 

In  order  to  show  his  quality  I  will  endeavour  to  sum- 
marise his  arguments  for  the  Existence  of  God,  with  as 
many  quotations  from  his  writings  as  my  space  will 
permit. 

"It  is  not  enough  to  prove,"  he  says,  "that  some  sort 
of  Being  exists.  In  the  end,  the  only  thing  that  matters 
is  the  character  of  that  Being."    But  how  are  we  to  set 


176  PAINTED  WINDOWS 

out  on  this  quest  since  "Science  will  not  allow  us  a 
starting  point  at  all "  ? 

He  answers  that  question  by  carrying  the  war  into 
the  scientific  camp,  as  he  has  a  perfect  right  to  do, 
"Science  makes  one  colossal  assumption  always; 
science  assumes  that  the  world  is  rational  in  this  sense, 
that  when  you  have  thought  out  thoroughly  the  im- 
plications of  your  experience,  the  result  is  fact.  .  .  . 
That  is  the  basis  of  all  science ;  it  is  a  colossal  assump- 
tion, but  science  cannot  move  one  step  without  it." 

Science  begins  with  its  demand  that  the  world  should  be 
seen  as  coherent;  it  insists  on  looking  at  it,  on  investigat- 
ing it,  till  it  is  so  seen.  As  long  as  there  is  any  pheno- 
menon left  out  of  the  systematic  coherence  that  you  have 
discovered,  science  is  discontented  and  insists  that  either 
the  system  is  wrongly  or  imperfectly  conceived  or  else  the 
facts  have  not  been  correctly  stated. 

This  demand  for  "a  coherent  and  comprehensive 
statement  of  the  whole  field  of  fact "  comes  solely  from 
reason.  How  do  we  get  it?  We  have  no  ground  in  ex- 
perience for  insisting  that  the  world  shall  be  regarded  as 
intelligent,  as  ' '  all  hanging  together  and  making  up  one 
system."  But  reason  insists  upon  it.  This  gives  us  "a 
kinship  between  the  mind  of  man  and  the  universe  he 
lives  in." 

Now,  when  man  puts  his  great  question  to  the  uni- 
verse, and  to  every  phenomenon  in  that  universe,  Why? 
— ^Why  is  this  what  it  is,  what  my  reason  recognises  it 
to  be?  is  he  not  in  truth  asking,  What  is  this  thing's 


BISHOP  TEMPLE  177 

purpose  ?   What  is  it  doing  in  the  universe  ?   What  is  its 
part  in  the  coherent  system  of  all-things-together? 

Now  there  is  in  our  experience  already  one  principle 
Vv-hich  does  answer  the  question  "Why?"  in  such  a 
way  as  to  raise  no  further  questions;  that  is,  the  principle 
of  Purpose.  Let  us  take  a  very  simple  illustration. 
Across  many  of  the  hills  in  Cumberland  the  way  from  one 
village  to  another  is  marked  by  white  stones  placed  at 
short  intervals.  We  may  easily  imagine  a  simple-minded 
person  asking  how  they  came  there,  or  what  natural  law 
could  account  for  their  lying  in  that  position;  and  the 
physical  antecedents  of  the  fact — the  geological  history 
of  the  stones  and  the  physiological  structure  of  the  men 
who  moved  them — give  no  answer.  As  soon,  however, 
as  we  hear  that  men  placed  them  so,  to  guide  wayfarers 
in  the  mist  or  in  the  night,  our  minds  are  satisfied. 

Dr.  Temple  holds  fast  to  that  great  word  that  infal- 
lible clue,  Purpose.  He  is  not  arguing  from  design.  He 
keeps  his  feet  firmly  on  scientific  ground,  and  asks,  as  a 
man  of  science  asks,  Vv'hat  is  this?  and  Why  is  this? 
Then  he  finds  that  this  question  can  proceed  only  from 
faith  in  coherence,  and  discovers  that  the  quest  of 
science  is  quest  of  Purpose. 

To  investigate  Purpose  is  obviously  to  acknowledge 
Will. 

Science  requires,  therefore,  that  there  should  be  a  real 
Purpose  in  the  world.  ...  It  appears  from  the  in- 
vestigation of  science,  from  investigation  of  the  method 
of  scientific  procedure  itself,  that  there  must  be  a  Will  in 
which  the  whole  world  is  rooted  and  grounded;  and  that 
we  and  all  other  things  proceed  therefrom ;  because  only 


12 


178  PAINTED  WINDOWS 

so  is  there  even  a  hope  of  attaining  the  intellectual  satis- 
faction for  which  science  is  a  quest. 

Reason  is  obliged  to  confess  the  hypothesis  of  a 
Creative  Will,  although  it  does  not  admit  that  man  has 
in  any  way  perceived  it.  But  is  this  hypothesis,  which 
is  essential  to  science,  to  be  left  in  the  position  of  Ma- 
homet's cofBn?  Is  it  not  to  be  investigated?  For  if 
atheism  is  irrational,  agnosticism  is  not  scientific — "it 
is  precisely  a  refusal  to  apply  the  scientific  method  itself 
beyond  a  certain  point,  and  that  a  point  at  which  there 
is  no  reason  in  heaven  or  earth  to  stop." 

To  speak  about  an  immanent  purpose  is  very  good 
sense;  but  to  speak  about  a  purpose  behind  which  there 
is  no  Will  is  nonsense. 

People,  he  says,  become  so  much  occupied  with  the 
consideration  of  what  they  know  that  they  entirely 
forget  "the  perfectly  astounding  fact  that  they  know 
it."  Also  they  overlook  or  slur  the  tremendous  fact  of 
spiritual  individuality;  "because  I  am  I,  I  am  not  any- 
body else."  But  let  the  individual  address  to  himself 
the  question  he  puts  to  the  universe,  let  him  investigate 
his  own  pressing  sense  of  spiritual  individuality,  just 
as  he  investigates  any  other  natural  phenomenon,  and 
he  will  find  himself  applying  that  principle  of  Purpose, 
and  thinking  of  himself  in  relation  to  the  Creator's 
Will. 

If  there  is  Purpose  in  the  universe  there  is  Will; 
you  cannot  have  Purpose  or  intelligent  direction,  with- 


BISHOP  TEMPLE  179 

out  Will.    But,  as  we  have  seen,  "to  speak  about  an 
immanent  will  is  nonsense" : 

It  is  the  purpose,  the  meaning  and  thought  of  God, 
that  is  immanent  not  God  Himself.  He  is  not  limited  to 
the  world  that  He  has  made;  He  is  beyond  it,  the  source 
and  ground  of  it  all,  but  not  it.  Just  as  you  may  say 
that  in  Shakespeare's  work  his  thoughts  and  feelings  are 
immanent;  you  find  them  there  in  the  book,  but  you 
don't  find  Shakespeare,  the  living,  thinking,  acting  man, 
in  the  book.  You  have  to  infer  the  kind  of  being  that  he 
was  from  what  he  wrote;  he  himself  is  not  there;  his 
thoughts  are  there. 

He  pronounces  "the  most  real  of  all  problems,"  the 
problem  of  evil,  to  be  soluble.  Why  is  there  no  problem 
of  good  ?  Note  well,  that ' '  the  problem  of  evil  is  always 
a  problem  in  terms  of  purpose."  How  evil  came  does 
not  matter :  the  question  is,  Why  is  it  here  ?  What  is  it 
doing?  "While  we  are  sitting  at  our  ease  it  generally 
seems  to  us  that  the  world  would  be  very  much  better 
if  all  evil  were  abolished.   .    .    .   But  would  it?" 

Surely  we  know  that  one  of  the  best  of  the  good  things 
in  life  is  victory,  and  particularly  moral  victory.  But 
to  demand  victory  without  an  antagonist  is  to  demand 
something  with  no  meaning. 

If  you  take  all  the  evil  out  of  the  world  you  will  remove 
the  possibihty  of  the  best  thing  in  life.  That  does  not 
mean  that  evil  is  good.  What  one  means  by  calling  a 
thing  good  is  that  the  spirit  rests  permanently  content 
with  it  for  its  own  sake.  Evil  is  precisely  that  with  which 
no  spirit  can  rest  content;  and  yet  it  is  the  condition,  not 
the  accidental  but  the  essential  condition,  of  what  is  in  and 
for  itself  the  best  thing  in  life,  namely  moral  victory. 


i8o  PAINTED  WINDOWS 

His  definition  of  Sin  helps  us  to  understand  his 
politics : 

Sin  is  the  self-assertion  either  of  a  part  of  a  man's 
nature  against  the  whole,  or  of  a  single  member  of  the 
human  family  against  the  welfare  of  that  family  and  the 
will  of  its  Father. 

But  if  it  is  self-will,  he  asks,  how  is  it  to  be  overcome? 

Not  by  any  kind  of  force;  for  force  cannot  bend  the 
will.  Not  by  any  kind  of  external  transaction;  that  may 
remit  the  penalty,  but  will  not  of  itself  change  the  will. 
It  must  be  by  the  revelation  of  a  love  so  intense  that  no 
heart  which  beats  can  remain  indifferent  to  it. 

All  this  seems  to  me  admirably  said.  It  does  at  least 
show  that  there  are  clear,  logical,  and  practical  reasons 
for  the  religious  hypothesis.  The  mind  of  man,  seeking 
to  penetrate  the  physical  mysteries  of  the  universe, 
encounters  Mind.  Mind  meets  Mind.  Reason  recog- 
nises, if  it  does  not  always  salute,  Reason.  And  in  this 
rational  and  evolving  universe  the  will  of  man  has  a 
struggle  with  itself,  a  struggle  on  which  man  clearly 
sees  the  fortunes  of  his  progress,  both  intellectual  and 
spiritual,  depend.  Will  recognises  Will.  And  surveying 
the  history  of  his  race  he  comes  to  a  standstill  of  love 
and  admiration  before  only  one  life 

a  life  whose  historic  occurrence  is  amply  demonstrated, 
whose  moral  and  spiritual  pre-eminence  consists  in  the 
completeness  of  self-sacrifice,  and  whose  inspiration  for 
those  who  try  to  imitate  it  is  without  parallel  in  human 
experience. 


BISHOP  TEMPLE  i8l 

Love  recognises    Love.      "I    am   the   Light   of   the 
World." 

I  will  give  a  few  brief  quotations  from  Dr.  Temple's 
pages  showing  how  he  regards  the  revelation  of  the 
Creative  Will  made  by  Christ,  Who  "in  His  teaching 
and  in  His  Life  is  the  climax  of  human  ethics." 

Love,  and  the  capacity  to  grow  in  love,  is  the  whole 
secret. 

The  one  thing  demanded  is  always  the  power  to  grow. 
Growth  and  progress  in  the  spiritual  life  is  the  one  thing 
Christ  is  always  demanding. 

He  took  bread  and  said  that  it  was  His  body;  and  He 
gave  thanks  for  it,  He  broke  it,  and  He  gave  it  to  them 
and  said,  "Do  this  in  remembrance  of  Me."  ...  Do 
what?  .  .  .  The  demand  is  nothing  less  than  this,  that 
men  should  take  their  whole  human  life,  and  break  it,  and 
give  it  for  the  good  of  others. 

The  growth  in  love,  and  the  sacrifice  which  evokes  that 
growth  in  love,  are,  I  would  suggest  the  most  precious 
things  in  life.  Take  away  the  condition  of  this  and  you 
will  destroy  the  value  of  the  spiritual  world. 

One  may  form,  I  think,  a  true  judgment  of  the  man 
from  these  few  extracts. 

He  is  one  who  could  not  move  an  inch  without  a 
thesis,  and  who  moves  only  by  inches  even  when  he  has 
got  his  thesis.  His  intellect,  I  mean,  is  in  charge  of  him 
from  first  to  last.  He  feels  deeply,  not  sharply.  He 
loves  truly,  not  passionately.  With  his  thesis  clear  in 
his  mind,  he  draws  his  sword,  salutes  the  universe, 
kneels  at  the  cross,  and  then,  with  joy  in  his  heart,  or 
rather  a  deep  and  steady  sense  of  well-being,  moves 


1 82  PAINTED  WINDOWS 

forward  to  the  world,  prepared  to  fight.  Fighting  is  the 
thing.  Yes,  but  here  is  neither  Don  Quixote  nor  Fal- 
stafif.  He  will  fight  warily,  take  no  unnecessary  risk, 
and  strike  only  when  he  is  perfectly  sure  of  striking 
home. 

You  must  not  think  of  him  as  old  beyond  his  years 
(he  is  only  a  little  over  forty)  but  rather  as  one  who  was 
wise  from  his  youth  up.  He  has  never  flung  himself 
with  emotion  into  any  movement  of  the  human  mind, 
not  because  he  lacks  devotion,  but  because  he  thinks  the 
victories  of  emotion  are  often  defeats  in  disguise.  He 
wishes  to  be  certain.  He  will  fight  as  hard  as  any  man, 
but  intelligently,  knowing  that  it  will  be  a  fight  to  the 
last  day  of  his  life.  He  is  perhaps  more  careful  to  last 
than  to  win — an  ecclesiastical  Jellicoe  rather  than  a 
Beatty.  Nor,  I  think,  must  one  take  the  view  of  the 
critic  that  he  has  never  stuck  to  the  main  point.  Every 
step  in  his  career,  as  I  see  it,  has  been  towards  oppor- 
tunity— the  riskless  opportunity  of  greater  service  and 
freer  movement. 

I  regard  him  as  a  man  whose  full  worth  will  never  be 
known  till  he  is  overtaken  by  a  crisis.  I  can  see  him 
moving  smoothly  and  usefully  in  times  of  comparative" 
peace  to  the  Primacy,  holding  that  high  office  with  dig- 
nity, and  leaving  behind  him  a  memory  that  will 
rapidly  fade.  But  I  cannot  see  him  so  clearly  in  the 
midst  of  a  storm.  A  great  industrial  upheaval,  for  ex- 
ample, where  would  that  land  him  ?  The  very  fact  that 
one  does  not  ask.  How  would  he  direct  it?  shows  per- 


BISHOP  TEMPLE  183 

haps  the  measure  of  distrust  one  may  feel  in  his  strength 
— not  of  character — but  of  personaHty.  He  would 
remain,  one  is  sure,  a  perfectly  good  man,  and  a  man  of 
intelligence;  but  would  any  great  body  of  the  nation 
feel  that  it  would  follow  him  either  in  a  fight  or  in  a 
retreat?  I  am  not  sure.  On  the  whole  I  feel  that  his 
personality  is  not  so  effective  as  it  might  have  been  if 
he  had  not  inherited  the  ecclesiastical  tradition,  had  not 
been  born  in  the  episcopal  purple. 

By  this  I  mean  that  he  gives  me  the  feeling  of  a  man 
who  is  not  great,  but  who  has  the  seeds  of  greatness  in 
him.  Events  may  prove  him  greater  than  even  his 
warmest  admirers  now  imagine  him  to  be.  A  crisis, 
either  in  the  Church  or  in  the  economic  world,  might 
enable  him  to  break  through  a  certain  atmosphere  of 
traditional  clericalism  which  now  rather  blurs  the  in- 
dividual outline  of  his  soul.  But,  even  with  the  dissipa- 
tion of  this  atmosphere,  one  is  not  quite  sure  that  the 
outline  of  his  soul  would  not  follow  the  severe  lines  of  a 
High  Anglican  tradition.  He  does  not,  at  present,  con- 
vince one  of  original  force. 

Yet,  when  all  doubts  are  expressed,  he  remains  one 
of  the  chief  hopes  of  the  Church,  and  so  perhaps  of  the 
nation.  For  from  his  boyhood  up  the  Kingdom  of  God 
has  meant  to  him  a  condition  here  upon  earth  in  which 
the  soul  of  man,  free  from  all  oppression,  can  reach 
gladly  up  towards  the  heights  of  spiritual  develop- 
ment. 

He  hates  in  his  soul  the  miserable  state  to  which  a 


I84  PAINTED  WINDOWS 

conscienceless  industrialism  has  brought  the  daily  life 
of  mankind.  He  lays  it  down  that  "  it  is  the  duty  of  the 
Church  to  make  an  altogether  new  effort  to  realise  and 
apply  to  all  the  relations  of  life  its  own  positive  ideal 
of  brotherhood  and  fellowship."  To  this  end  he  has 
brought  about  an  important  council  of  masters  and  men 
who  are  investigating  with  great  thoroughness  the  whole 
economic  problem,  so  thoroughly  that  the  Bishop  will 
not  receive  their  report,  I  understand,  till  1923 — a 
report  which  may  make  history. 

As  a  member  of  the  Society  of  Spirits,  he  says,  "I 
have  a  particular  destiny  to  fulfil. ' '  He  is  a  moral  being, 
conscious  of  his  dependence  on  other  men.  He  traces 
the  historic  growth  of  the  moral  judgment : 

The  growth  of  morality  is  twofold.  It  is  partly  a 
growth  in  content,  from  negative  to  positive.  It  is  partly 
a  growth  in  extent,  from  tribal  to  universal.  And  in  both 
of  these  forms  of  growth  it  is  accompanied,  and  as  a  rule, 
though  my  knowledge  would  not  entitle  me  to  say  always, 
it  is  also  conditioned  by  a  parallel  development  in  re- 
ligious conviction. 

We  are  all  aware  that  early  morality  is  mainly  negative ; 
it  is  the  ruling  out  of  certain  ways  of  arriving  at  the 
human  ideal,  however  that  is  to  be  defined,  which  have 
been  attempted  and  have  been  found  failures.  What- 
ever else  may  be  the  way  to  reach  the  end,  murder  is  not, 
theft  is  not,  and  so  on.  Thus  we  get  the  Second  Table  of 
the  Decalogue,  where  morality  commits  itself  to  prohibi- 
tions— this  is  not  the  way,  that  is  not  the  way;  then 
gradually,  under  the  pressure  of  experience,  there  begins 
to  emerge  the  conception  of  the  end  which  makes  all  this 


BISHOP  TEMPLE  185 

prohibition  necessary,  and  which  these  methods  when 
they  were  attempted  failed  to  reach.  .  .  . 

And  so  we  come  at  last  to  "the  Kingdom  of  God 
as  proclaimed  by  Christ,  and  the  supreme  law  of  ethics, 
the  demonstrably  final  law  of  ethics,  is  laid  down — Thou 
shalt  love  thy  neighbour  as  thyself." 

Of  course  the  words  come  from  the  Old  Testament. 
Some  critics  used  to  say:  "You  will  find  in  the  Rabbis 
almost  everything,  if  not  quite  everything,  which  you 
find  in  the  teaching  of  Christ."  "Yes,"  added  Well- 
hausen,  "and  how  much  else  besides."  It  was  the  singling 
out  of  this  great  principle  and  laying  the  whole  emphasis 
upon  it  that  made  the  difference. 

To  a  man  who  believes  that  Christ  came  to  set  up  the 
Kingdom  of  God,  clearly  neither  the  Conservative  nor 
Liberal  Party  can  appeal  with  any  compelling  force  of 
divinity.  How  far  the  Labour  Party  may  appeal  must 
depend,  I  should  think  on  the  man's  knowledge  of 
economic  law.  As  Dean  Inge  says,  Christ's  sole  contri- 
bution to  economics  is  "Beware  of  covetousness" — an 
injunction  which  the  Labour  Party  has  not  yet  quite 
taken  to  its  heart.  But  Dr.  Temple  has  a  right  to 
challenge  his  clerical  critics  for  Christ's  sanction  of  the 
present  system,  which  is  certainly  founded  on  covetous- 
ness and  produces  strikingly  hideous  results. 

His  theological  position  may  be  gathered  from  the 
following  reply  which  he  made,  as  a  Canon  of  West- 
minster, to  a  representative  of  the  Daily  Telegraph 
nearly  two  years  ago.     I  do  not  think  he  has  greatly 


i86  PAINTED  WINDOWS 

changed.  He  was  asked  how  far  the  Church  could  go  in 
meeting  that  large  body  of  opinion  which  cannot  accept 
some  of  its  chief  dogmas.    He  replied : 

I  can  speak  freely,  because  I  happen  to  hold  two 
of  the  dogmas  which  most  people  quarrel  about — the 
virgin  birth  and  the  physical  resurrection.     There  are 
other  heresies   floating   about!    One   of   our   deans  is 
inclined  to  assert  the  finitude  of  God,  and  another  to  deny 
anything  in  the  nature  of  personality  to  God  or  to  man's 
spirit!     Rather  confusing!     Philosophic  questions  of  this 
kind,   however,  do  not  greatly  concern  mankind.    To 
believe  in  God  the  Father  is  essential  to  the  Christian 
religion.     Other  doctrines  may  not  be  so  essential,  but 
they  must  not  be  regarded  as  unimportant.     Personally 
I  wish  the  Church  to  hold  her  dogmas,  because  I  would  do 
nothing  to  widen  the  gulf  which  separates  us  from  the 
other  great  Churches,  the  Roman  and  the  Eastern.     The 
greatest  political  aim  of  humanity,  in  my  opinion,  is  a 
super-state,  and  that  can  only  come  through  a  Church 
universal.     How  we  all  longed  for  it  during  the  war!— 
one  voice  above  the  conflict,  the  voice  of  the  Church,  the 
voice  of  Christ !     If  the  Pope  had  only  spoken  out,  with 
no  reference  to  the  feelings  of  the  Austrian  Emperor!— 
what  a  gain  that  would  have  been  for  religion.     But  the 
great  authentic  voice  never  sounded.     Instead  of  the 
successor  of  St.  Peter  we  had  to  content  ourselves  with 
the  American  Press— excellent,  no  doubt,   but  hardly 
satisfying. 

Let  me  tell  you  a  rather  striking  remark  by  an  Italian 
friend  of  mine,  an  editor  of  an  Italian  review,  and  not  a 
Roman  Catholic.  He  was  saying  that  every  Church 
that  persisted  for  any  time  possessed  something  essential 
to  the  religion  of  Christ.  I  asked  him  what  he  saw  in  the 
Roman  Church  that  was  essential.  He  replied  at  once, 
"The  Papacy."     I  was  surprised  for  the  moment,  but  I 


BISHOP  TEMPLE  187 

saw  presently  what  he  meant.  The  desire  of  the  world  is 
for  universal  peace,  universal  harmony.  Can  that  ever 
be  achieved  by  a  disunited  Christendom?  The  nations 
are  rivals.  Their  rivalry  persisted  at  the  Peace  Confer- 
ence, disappointing  all  the  hopes  of  idealists.  Must  it 
not  always  persist,  must  not  horrible  carnage,  awful 
desolation,  ruinous  destruction,  and,  at  any  rate,  danger- 
ous and  provocative  rivalries,  always  dog  the  steps  of 
humanity  until  Christendom  is  one? 

Personally,  I  think  reunion  with  Rome  is  so  far  off 
that  it  need  not  trouble  us  just  now;  there  are  other 
things  to  do ;  but  I  would  certainly  refrain  from  anything 
which  made  ultimate  reunion  more  difficult.  And  so  I 
hold  fast  to  my  Catholic  doctrines.  But  I  tell  you  where 
I  find  a  great  difficulty.  A  man  comes  to  me  for  adult 
baptism.  I  have  to  ask  him,  point  by  point,  if  he  verily 
believes  the  various  doctrines  of  the  Church,  doctrines 
which  a  man  baptised  as  an  infant  may  not  definitely 
accept  and  yet  remain  a  faithful  member  of  Christ's 
Church.  What  am  I  to  say  to  one  who  has  the  passion  of 
Christian  morality  in  his  heart,  but  asks  me  whether 
these  verbal  statements  of  belief  are  essential?  He 
might  say  to  me,  "It  would  be  immoral  to  assert  that  I 
believe  what  I  have  not  examined,  and  to  examine  this 
doctrine  so  thoroughly  as  to  give  an  answer  not  immoral 
would  take  a  lifetime.  Am  I  to  remain  outside  the 
Church  till  then  ? "  Here,  I  think,  the  Church  can  take  a 
step  which  would  widen  its  influence  enormously.  N© 
man  ought  to  be  shut  out  of  Christ's  Church  who  has 
the  love  of  God  and  the  love  of  humanity  in  his  heart. 
That  seems  to  me  quite  clear.  I  don't  like  to  say  we 
make  too  much  of  the  creeds,  but  I  do  say  that  we  don't 
make  half  enough  of  the  morality  of  Christ.  That's 
where  I  should  like  to  see  the  real  test  applied. 

What  I  should  like  to  see  would  be  a  particular  and 


i88  PAINTED  WINDOWS 

individual  profession  of  the  Beatitudes.  I  should  like  to 
see  congregations  stand  up,  face  to  the  East,  do  anything, 
I  mean,  that  marks  this  profession  out  as  something 
essential  and  personal,  and  so  recite  the  Beatitudes. 
There  might  be  a  great  sifting,  but  it  would  bring  home 
the  reality  of  the  Christian  demand  to  the  heart  and 
conscience  of  the  world.  After  all,  that's  our  ideal,  isn't 
it? — the  City  of  God.  If  we  all  concentrated  on  this 
ideal,  realising  that  the  morality  of  Christ  is  essential,  I 
don't  think  there  would  be  much  bother  taken,  outside 
professional  circles,  about  points  of  doctrine. 

Then,  writes  the  interviewer,  arose  the  question  of 
fervour.  ' '  Can  the  City  of  God  be  established  without 
some  powerful  impulse  of  the  human  heart?  Can  it 
ever  be  established,  for  example,  by  the  detached  and 
self  satisfied  intellectual  priggishness  of  the  subsidised 
sixpenny  review,  or  by  the  mere  violence  of  the  Labour 
extremist's  oratory  ?  Must  there  not  be  something  akin 
to  the  evangelical  enthusiasm  of  the  last  century,  some- 
thing of  a  revivalist  nature  ?  And  yet  have  we  not  out- 
grown anything  of  the  kind? 

"To  Canon  Temple  the  answer  presents  itself  in 
this  way:  Rarer  than  Christian  charity  is  Christian 
faith.  The  supreme  realism  is  yet  to  come,  namely,  the 
realisation  of  Christ  as  a  living  Person,  the  realisation 
that  He  truly  meant  what  He  said,  the  realisation  that 
what  He  said  is  of  paramount  importance  in  all  the 
affairs  of  human  life.  When  mankind  becomes  con- 
sciously aware  of  the  Christian  faith  as  a  supreme  truth, 
then  there  will  be  a  realistic  effort  to  establish  the  City 


BISHOP  TEMPLE  189 

of  God.  The  first  step,  then,  is  for  the  Church  to  make 
itself  something  transcendently  different  from  the 
materialistic  world.  It  must  truly  mean  what  it  says 
when  it  asserts  the  morahty  of  Christ.  Blessed  are  the 
poor  in  spirit,  the  meek,  the  merciful,  the  pure  in  heart, 
the  peacemakers.  The  fervour  is  not  to  be  born  of  an 
individual  fear  of  hell  or  an  individual  anxiety  for 
celestial  safety,  but  of  an  utterly  unselfish  enthusiasm 
for  the  welfare  of  the  world." 

I  should  give  a  false  impression  of  this  very  interest- 
ing man,  who  is  so  sincere  and  so  steadfast,  if  I  did  not 
mention  the  significant  fact  of  his  happiness.  Ke  has 
always  struck  me,  in  spite  of  his  formidable  intellect 
and  a  somewhat  pedagogic  front  and  the  occasional 
accent  of  an  ancient  and  scholarly  ecclesiasticism,  as  one 
of  the  happiest  and  most  boy-like  of  men — a  man  whose 
centre  must  be  cloudlessly  serene,  and  who  finds  life 
definitely  good.  His  laughter  indeed,  is  a  noble  witness 
to  the  truth  of  a  rational  and  moral  existence.  His 
strength  is  as  the  strength  of  ten,  not  only  because  his 
heart  is  pure,  but  because  he  has  formulated  an  intelli- 
gent thesis  of  existence. 

He  has  pointed  out  that  the  Pickwick  Papers  could 
not  have  been  produced  in  any  but  a  Christian  country. 
"Satire  you  may  get  to  perfection  in  pagan  countries. 
But  only  in  those  countries  where  the  morality  of  Christ 
has  penetrated  deeply  do  you  get  the  spirit  that  loves 
the  thing  it  laughs  at." 


PRINCIPAL  W.  B.  SELBIE 

Selbie,  Rev.  Wm.  Boothby,  M.A.;  Principal  of  Mansfield  College, 
Oxford,  since  1909;  b.  Chesterfield,  24  Dec,  1862;  e.  s.  of  late  Rev.  R.  W. 
Selbie,  B.A.  of  Salford;  m.  Mildred  Mary,  2d  d.  of  late  Joseph  Thomp- 
son, J.  P.,  LL.D.,  of  Wilmslow,  Cheshire;  two  s.  one  d.  Educ:  Man- 
chester Grammar  School;  Brasenose  and  Mansfield  Colleges,  Oxford; 
incorporated  M.A.,  at  Trinity  Hall,  Cambridge,  1904;  Hon.  D.  D. 
Glasgow,  191 1.  Lecturer  in  Hebrew  and  Old  Testament  at  Mansfield 
College,  Oxford,  1889-90;  Minister  Highgate  Congregational  Church, 
London,  1890-1902;  Emmanuel  Congregational  Church,  Cambridge, 
1902-1909;  Editor  of  the  5rt7w A  Congregationalisl,  1899-1909;  Lecture 
in  Pastoral  Theology  at  Cheshunt  College,  Cambridge,  1907-1909; 
Chairman  of  Congregational  Union,  1914-191 5;  President  of  National 
Free  Church  Council,  1917. 


PRINCIPAL  W.    B.   SELBIC 


CHAPTER  XI 
PRINCIPAL  W.  B.  SELBIE 

I  make  not  therefore  my  head  a  grave,  hut  a  treasure  oj 
knowledge;  I  intend  no  Monopoly,  hut  a  community  in  learn- 
ing; I  study  not  for  my  own  sake  only,  hut  for  theirs  that 
study  not  for  themselves. 

I  envy  no  man  that  knows  more  than  my  self,  hut  pity  them 
that  know  less.  I  instruct  no  man  as  an  exercise  of  my 
knowledge,  or  with  an  intent  rather  to  noiirish  and  keep  it  alive 
in  mine  own  head,  then  heget  and  propagate  it  in  his;  and  in 
the  midst  of  all  my  endeavour,  there  is  hut  one  thought  that 
dejects  me,  that  my  acquired  parts  must  perish  with  my  self,  nor 
can  he  Legacied  among  my  honoured  Friends. — Sir  Thomas 
Browne. 

Mansfield  College,  Oxford,  has  been  happy  in  its 
Principals.  Dr.  Fairbairn  created  respect  for  Non- 
conformity in  the  very  citadel  of  High  AngHcanism; 
Dr.  Selbie  has  converted  that  respect  into  friendship. 
There  is  no  man  of  note  or  power  at  Oxford  who  does  not 
speak  with  real  affection  of  this  devoted  scholar,  who 
has  been  dubbed  up  there  "an  inspired  mouse." 

He  is  a  little  man,  with  quick  darting  movements, 
a  twinkling  bright  eye,  an  altogether  unaggressive 
voice,  and  a  manner  that  is  singularly  insinuating  and 

appealing.    As  it  is  impossible  to  think  of  a  blustering 
13  193 


194  PAINTED  WINDOWS 

or  brow-beating  mouse,  or  a  mouse  that  advances  with 
the  stride  of  a  Guardsman  and  the  minatory  aspect  of  a 
bull-terrier,  so  it  is  impossible  to  think  of  Dr.  Selbie  as  a 
fellow  of  any  truculence,  a  scholar  of  any  prejudice,  a 
Christian  of  any  unctimoniousness.  Mildness  is  the 
very  temper  of  his  soul,  and  modesty  the  centre  of  his 
being. 

He  is  a  Hebrew  scholar  who  has  advanced  into 
philosophical  territory  and  now  is  pushing  his  investiga- 
tions into  the  field  of  psychology.  Modest  and  wholly 
unpretentious  he  sets  up  as  no  original  genius,  and  is 
content  with  his  double  role  of  close  observer  and 
respectful  critic.  He  is  rather  a  guide  to  men  than  a 
light.  He  has  nothing  new  to  say,  but  nothing  fooUsh. 
His  words  are  words  of  purest  wisdom,  though  you  may 
have  heard  them  before.  You  feel  that  if  he  cannot  lead 
you  to  the  Promised  Land,  at  least  he  will  not  conduct 
you  to  the  precipice  and  the  abyss. 

Above  everything  else  he  is  a  scholar  who  would 
put  his  learning  at  the  service  of  his  fellow-men.  Educa- 
tion with  him  is  a  passion,  a  part  of  his  philanthropy,  a 
part  of  his  religion.  It  is  the  darkness  of  man,  not  the 
sinfulness  of  man,  that  catches  his  attention.  He  feels 
that  the  world  is  foolish  because  it  is  ignorant,  not 
because  it  is  wicked.  And  he  feels  that  the  foolishness 
of  the  world  is  a  count  in  the  indictment  against  re- 
ligion. Religion  has  not  taught;  it  has  used  mankind 
as  a  dictaphone. 

He  has  spoken  to  me  with  great  hope  and  confidence 


PRINCIPAL  W.  B.  SELBIE  195 

of  the  change  which  is  coming  over  the  Chiirch  in  this 
matter  of  religious  teaching.  Dr.  Headlam,  the  Regius 
Professor  of  Divinity,  has  Hghted  a  candle  at  Oxford 
which  by  God's  grace  will  never  be  put  out.  There  is 
now  a  fairly  general  feeling  that  men  who  enter  the 
ministry  must  be  educated  not  to  pass  a  test  or  to  prove 
themselves  capable  of  conducting  a  service  or  perform- 
ing as  rite,  but  educated  as  educators — apostles  of  truth, 
evangelists  of  the  higher  life. 

Religion,  according  to  Dr.  Selbie,  is  something  to  be 
taught.  It  is  not  a  mystery  to  be  presented,  but  an 
idea  to  be  inculcated.  The  world  has  got  to  understand 
religion  before  it  can  live  religiously. 

But  all  education  stands  in  sore  need  of  the  trained 
teacher.  Our  teachers  are  not  good  enough.  They 
may  be  very  able  men  and  women,  but  few  of  them  are 
very  able  teachers.  The  first  need  in  a  teacher  is  to 
inspire  in  his  students  a  love  of  knowledge,  a  hunger 
and  thirst  after  wisdom.  But,  look  at  our  schools,  look 
at  our  great  cities,  look  at  the  pleasures  and  recreations 
which  satisfy  the  vast  masses  of  the  population !  As  a 
nation,  we  have  no  enthusiasm  for  education.  This  is 
because  we  have  so  little  understanding  of  the  nature 
and  province  of  education.  We  have  never  been  taught 
what  education  is. 

With  his  enthusiasm  for  education  goes  a  perfervid 
spiritual  conviction  that  intellect  is  not  enough.  He 
tells  the  story  of  an  old  Scots  woman  who  listened  in- 
tently to  a  highly  intellectual  sermon  by  a  brilliant 


196  PAINTED  WINDOWS 

scholar,  and  at  the  end  of  it  called  out  from  her  seat, 
"Aye,  aye;  but  yon  rope  o'  yours  is  nae  lang  enough  tae 
reach  the  likes  o'  me."  Something  much  more  myste- 
rious and  much  more  powerful  than  intellect  is  necessary 
to  change  the  heart  of  humanity;  but  when  love  and 
knowledge  go  hand  in  hand  there  you  get  both  the  great 
teacher  and  the  good  shepherd.  Knowledge  without 
love  is  almost  as  useless  to  a  teacher  as  love  without 
knowledge. 

In  his  study  at  Mansfield,  a  large  and  friendly  room 
book-lined  from  floor  to  ceiling,  with  a  pleasant  hearth 
at  one  end  of  it,  where  he  smokes  an  occasional  pipe  with 
an  interrupting  fellow  scholar,  but  where  he  is  most 
otten  to  be  found  buried  in  a  great  book  and  oblivious 
of  all  else  besides,  this  little  man  with  the  darting  eyes 
and  soft  voice  is  now  invading,  with  sound  good  sense 
to  save  him  from  nausea  or  contamination,  the  region 
of  morbid  psychology. 

He  would  perfectly  agree  with  Dr.  Inge's  character- 
istic statement,  "The  suggestion  that  in  prayer  we  only 
hear  the  echo  of  our  own  voices  is  ridiculous  to  anyone 
who  has  prayed  " ;  but  he  is,  I  think,  much  more  aware 
of  the  power  and  extent  of  this  suggestion  than  is  the 
Dean  of  St,  Paul's,  and  therefore  qualifies  himself  to 
meet  the  psychologists  on  their  own  ground. 

He  has  confessed  to  me  that  in  reading  Freud  he 
had  to  wade  through  much  almost  unimaginable  filth, 
and  he  is  driven  to  think  that  Freud  himself  is  the  vic- 
tim of  "a  sex  complex,"  a  man  so  obsessed  by  a  single 


PRINCIPAL  W.  B.  SELBIE  197 

theory,  so  ridden  by  one  idea,  that  he  perfectly  illus- 
trates the  witty  definition  of  an  expert — "an  expert  is 
one  who  knows  nothing  else. "  All  the  same,  Dr.  Selbie 
assures  me  that  his  studies  have  been  well  worth  while, 
that  modern  psychology  has  much  to  teach  us  of  the 
highest  value,  and  that  rehgion  as  well  as  medicine 
will  more  and  more  have  to  take  account  of  this  dar- 
ing science  which  advances  so  swiftly  into  their  own 
provinces. 

So  far  as  my  experience  goes  no  man  of  the  first  rank 
in  Anglican  circles  is  preparing  himself  for  this  inevit- 
able encounter  with  anything  like  the  thoroughness  of 
Dr.  Selbie,  a  nonconformist. 

He  makes  it  a  rule  never  to  interfere  with  the  troubles 
of  another  communion ;  but  I  do  not  think  I  misrepre- 
sent him  when  I  say  that  he  regrets  the  immersion  of 
the  Church  of  England  in  questions  of  theological  dispu- 
tation at  a  time  when  the  true  battle  of  religion  is  shift- 
ing on  to  quite  other  ground. 

Not  many  people  in  Anglo-Catholic  circles  realise 
perhaps  that  to  the  educated  nonconformist  all  this 
excitement  about  modernism  seems  strangely  old- 
fashioned.  Long  ago  such  matters  were  settled.  The 
scholar  nonconformist  is  no  longer  concerned  with 
dogmatic  difficulties;  he  has  abandoned  with  the  old 
teleology  the  old  pagan  theology,  and  now,  beHeving  in 
an  immanent  teleology,  in  an  evolution  that  is  creative 
and  that  has  direction,  believing  also  that  Christ  is  the 
incarnation  of  God's  purpose  and  the  revelation  of  His 


198  PAINTED  WINDOWS 

character,  he  is  pressing  forward  not  to  meet  the  diffi- 
culties of  to-morrow,  but  to  equip  himself  for  meeting 
those  difficulties  when  they  arise  with  real  intelligence 
and  genuine  power. 

"If  medicine,"  said  Froude,  "had  been  regulated 
three  hundred  years  ago  by  Act  of  Parliament ;  if  there 
had  been  Thirty-Nine  Articles  of  Physic,  and  every 
licensed  practitioner  had  been  compelled,  under  pains 
and  penalties,  to  compound  his  drugs  by  the  prescrip- 
tions of  Henry  the  Eighth's  physician,  Doctor  Butts, 
it  is  easy  to  conjecture  in  what  state  of  health  the  people 
of  this  country  would  at  present  be  found." 

Christendom  does  not  yet  realise  how  greatly,  how 
grievously,  it  has  suffered  in  spiritual  health  by  having 
sent  to  Coventry  or  to  the  stake  so  many  theological 
Simpsons,  Listers,  and  Pasteurs  simply  because  they 
could  not  rest  their  minds  in  the  hypotheses  of  very  ill- 
educated  men  who  strove  to  grapple  with  the  highest  of 
all  intellectual  problems  at  a  time  when  knowledge  was 
at  its  lowest  level. 

It  will  perhaps  rouse  the  vitality  of  the  Church  when 
it  finds  twenty  or  thirty  years  from  now  that  the  great 
protagonists  of  Christianity  in  its  future  battles  with 
science  and  philosophy  are  drawn  from  the  ranks  of 
nonconformity. 

Dr.  Selbie  is  certainly  preparing  his  students  for 
these  encounters,  and  preparing  them,  too,  with  an  em- 
phasis on  one  particular  aspect  of  the  old  theology,  and  a 
central  one,  which  the  apologists  of  more  orthodox  com- 


PRINCIPAL  W.  B.  SELBIE  199 

munions  have  either  overlooked  or  find  it  convenient  to 
ignore. 

One  of  his  first  postulates  is  that  man  inhabits  a  moral 
universe,  and  from  this  postulate  he  has  no  difficulty 
in  moving  forward  not  only  to  contemplate  the  hypothe- 
sis of  immortahty,  but  to  confront  the  difficulty  of 
punishment  for  sin.  In  a  little  book  of  his  called  Belief 
and  Life  he  has  the  following  passages : 

In  the  long  last  men  cannot  be  persuaded  to  deny  their 
own  moral  nature,  and  they  will  not  be  content  with  a 
theory  of  the  universe  which  does  not  satisfy  their  sense 
of  right. 

And  because  of  this  very  sense  of  right  they  entertain 
no  soft  and  sentimental  notions  concerning  the  universe : 

They  believe  in  judgment,  in  retribution,  and  in  the 
great  principle  that  "  as  a  man  sows,  so  shall  he  also  reap." 
They  therefore  require  that  room  shall  be  found  in  the 
scheme  of  things  for  the  working  out  of  this  principle. 
They  recognise  that  such  room  is  not  to  be  found  in  this 
present  life,  and  so  they  accept  the  fact  that  God  hath  set 
eternity  in  our  hearts,  and  that  we  are  built  on  a  scale 
which  requires  a  more  abundant  life  to  complete  it. 

In  corroboration  of  their  faith,  it  may  be  said,  as 
John  Stuart  Mill  used  to  argue,  that  wherever  belief  in  the 
future  has  been  strong  and  vivid,  it  has  made  for  human 
progress.  There  is  no  doubt  that  the  deterioration  of 
religion  and  the  more  material  views  of  life  so  prevalent 
just  now  are  due  to  the  loss  of  faith  in  the  future. 

Religion,  he  says,  can  never  live  or  be  effective  within 
the  narrow  circle  of  time  and  sense.     Nevertheless  he 


200  PAINTED  WINDOWS 

has  the  courage  to  say:  "The  future  life,  like  the  belief 
in  God,  is  best  treated  as  an  hypothesis  that  is  yet  in 
process  of  verification." 

But  this  hypothesis  explains  what  else  were  inexpHc- 
able.  It  works.  And,  confronting  the  hypothesis  of 
immortality,  he  insists  that  a  future  life  must  embrace 
retribution.  "As  a  man  sows,  so  shall  he  also  reap." 
Immortality  is  not  to  be  regarded  as  a  sentimental  com- 
pensation for  our  terrestrial  experience,  but  as  the  es- 
sential continuity  of  our  spiritual  evolution.  "For 
many,  no  doubt,  it  will  mean  an  experience  of  probation, 
and  for  all  one  of  retribution." 

He  sees  clearly  and  gratefully  that  "the  moral  range 
of  the  work  of  Christ  in  the  human  soul,  His  gifts  of 
grace,  forgiveness,  and  power,  lift  men  at  once  on  to  the 
plane  of  the  spiritual  and  fill  their  conception  of  life 
with  a  new  and  richer  content."  But  he  does  not  shut 
his  eyes  to  the  fact  of  the  moral  law,  and  with  all  the 
force  of  his  character  and  all  the  strength  of  his  intellect 
he  accepts  "the  great  principle  that  as  a  man  sows,  so 
shall  he  also  reap." 

In  this  way  Dr.  Selbie  prepares  his  students,  not  only 
to  meet  the  intellectual  difficulties  of  the  future,  but  to 
stand  fast  in  the  ancient  faith  of  their  forefathers  that 
the  moral  law  is  a  fact  of  the  universe.  He  helps  them 
to  be  fighters  as  well  as  teachers.  They  are  to  fight  the 
complacency  of  men,  the  false  optimism  of  the  world, 
the  delusive  tolerance  of  materialism.  There  is  no  need 
for  them  to  preach  hell  fire  and  damnation,  but  through- 


PRINCIPAL  W.  B.  SELBIE  201 

out  all  their  preaching,  making  it  a  real  thing  and  a 
thing  of  the  most  pressing  moment,  must  ring  that  just 
and  inevitable  word,  Retribution.  In  a  moral  universe, 
selfishness  involves,  rightly  and  inevitably,  suffering — 
suffering  self-sown,  self-determined,  and  self-merited. 

He  is  the  last  man  in  the  world  from  whom  one  would 
expect  such  teaching  to  emanate.  He  seems,  in  his 
social  moments,  a  scholar  who  is  scarcely  aware  of 
humanity  in  his  delicious  pursuit  of  pure  truth,  a  man 
who  inhabits  the  faery  realm  of  ideas,  and  drinks  the 
milk  of  Paradise.  But  approach  him  on  other  groimd 
and  you  find,  though  his  serenity  never  deserts  him, 
though  he  is  always  imperturbable  and  unassertive,  that 
his  interest  in  humanity  and  the  practical  problems  of 
humanity  is  as  vivid  and  consuming  as  that  of  any  social 
reformer. 

There,  in  Oxford,  among  his  books,  and  carrying  on 
his  duties  as  Principal  of  Mansfield  College,  Dr.  Selbie, 
back  from  holidays  spent  in  watching  the  great  working 
world  and  Ustening  to  the  teachers  of  that  world,  finds 
himself  not  alarmed,  but  anxious.  The  voice  of  religion, 
he  feels,  is  not  making  itself  heard,  and  the  voices  of 
churches  are  making  only  a  discord.  Men  are  going 
astray  because  they  have  no  knowledge  of  their  course, 
and  the  blind  are  falHng  into  the  ditch  because  they  are 
led  by  the  bUnd.  How  is  this  dangerous  condition  of 
things  to  be  remedied? 

He  replies.  By  the  teachers. 

What  we  need  at  this  hour  above  all  other  needs  is 


202  PAINTED  WINDOWS 

the  great  teacher,  one  able  to  proclaim  and  explain  the 
truths  of  religion,  and  filled  with  a  high  enthusiasm  for 
his  office.  We  need,  he  tells  me,  men  who  can  restore 
to  preaching  its  best  authority.  At  the  present  time 
preaching  has  fallen  to  a  low  ebb  because  it  is  despised, 
and  it  is  despised  because  it  has  lost  the  element  of 
teaching.  But  let  men  recover  their  faith  in  the  moral 
law,  let  them  see  that  retribution  is  inevitable  justice, 
let  them  realise  that  the  life  of  man  is  a  progress  in 
spiritual  comprehension,  let  them  understand  that 
existence  is  a  great  thing  and  not  a  mean  thing,  and 
they  will  feel  again  the  compulsion  to  preach,  and  their 
preaching,  founded  on  the  moral  law  and  inspired  by 
faith  in  the  teaching  of  Christ,  will  draw  the  world  from 
the  destructive  negations  of  materialism,  and  wake  it 
out  of  the  fatal  torpors  of  dull  indifference. 

Happy,  I  think,  is  the  church  which  has  such  a 
teacher  at  the  head  of  its  disciples.  Though  its  tradi- 
tions may  not  reach  far  back  into  the  historic  twilight  of 
ignorance,  the  rays  of  the  unrisen  sun  strike  upon  its 
banners  as  they  advance  towards  the  future  of  mankind. 


ARCHBISHOP  RANDALL  DAVIDSON 

Canterbury,  Archbishop  of,  since  1903;  Most  Rev.  Randall  Thomas 
Davidson,  D.D.,  D.C.L.,  LL.D.;  Prelate  of  the  Order  of  the  Garter, 
1895-1903;  G.C.V.O.,  cr.  1904;  Royal  Victorian  Chain,  191 1;  Grand 
Cross  of  the  Royal  Order  of  the  Saviour  (Greece),  191 8;  Grand  Cordon 
de  rOrdre  de  la  Couronne  (Belgium,  1919) ;  First  class  of  the  Order  of  St. 
Sava  (Serbia),  1919;  b.  7  April,  1848;  s.  of  Henry  Davidson,  Muirhouse, 
Edinburgh,  and  Henrietta,  d.  of  John  Swinton,  Kimmerghame;  m. 
Edith,  2d  d.  of  Archbishop  Tait  of  Canterbury,  1878.  Educ. :  Harrow; 
Trinity  College,  Oxford  (D.D.),  Curate  of  Dartford,  Kent,  1874-77; 
Chaplain  and  Private  Secretary  to  Archbishop  Tait  of  Canterbury, 
1877-82;  to  Archbishop  Benson,  1882-3;  Examining  Chaplain  to  Bishop 
Lightfoot  of  Durham,  1881-83;  Sub- Almoner  to  Queen  Victoria,  1882; 
one  of  the  six  preachers  of  Canterbury  Cathedral,  1880-83;  Dean  of 
Windsor  and  Domestic  Chaplain  to  Queen  Victoria,  1883-91 ;  Clerk  of  the 
Closet  to  Queen  Victoria,  i89i-i90i;toH.  M.  the  King,  1901-3;  Trustee 
of  the  British  Museum  from  1884,  Bishop  of  Rochester,  1891-95; 
Bishopof  Winchester,  1 895- 1 903. 


lI.i./<i 


ARCHBISHOP    RANDALL  DAVIDSON 


CHAPTER   XII 
ARCHBISHOP     RANDALL     DAVIDSON 

Let  us  he  flexible,  dear  Grace;  let  us  be  flexible! — Henry 
James. 

.  .  .  the  Archbishop  recalled  both  to  the  gravity  of  the  issue. 
— Lord  Morley. 

Because  of  his  great  place  and  his  many  merits,  both 
of  heart  and  head,  and  also  because  his  career  raises  the 
question  I  desire  to  discuss  in  my  Conclusion,  I  have 
left  the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury  to  the  last  of  these 
brief  studies  in  religious  personality. 

More  admirably,  I  think,  because  more  entirely,  than 
any  of  the  other  men  I  have  attempted  to  study,  Dr. 
Davidson  sums  up  the  virtues  of  Anglicanism.  He 
stands,  first  and  foremost,  for  order,  decency,  and  good 
temper.  If  he  has  a  passion  it  is  for  the  status  quo.  If 
he  has  a  genius  it  is  for  compromise.  Lord  Morley,  who 
knows  him  and  respects  him,  describes  him  as  "a  man 
of  broad  mind,  sagacious  temper,  steady  and  careful 
judgment,  good  knowledge  of  the  workable  strength  of 
rival  sections."  Pre-eminently  the  Archbishop  is  a 
practical  man. 

I  know  not  out  of  how  many  crises  he  has  contrived, 

205 


2o6  PAINTED  WINDOWS 

both  as  a  fisher  of  men  and  a  good  shepherd,  to  Hft  the 
Church  of  England  by  hook  or  by  crook. 

When  he  was  a  youth  a  serious  accident  threatened 
to  destroy  his  health  and  ruin  his  prospects.  A  charge 
of  gunshot  struck  him  at  the  bottom  of  the  spine.  The 
shot  still  remain  in  his  body,  and  every  autumn  he  is 
visited  with  an  attack  of  quasiperitonitis  which  reduces 
him  to  a  sad  state  of  weakness.  For  long  weeks  together 
— once  it  was  for  a  whole  year — his  diet  is  restricted 
entirely  to  milk  foods. 

In  spite  of  this  grave  disability,  I  am  inclined  to  doubt 
if  there  is  a  harder  worker  in  any  church  of  the  world. 
Dr.  Davidson's  knowledge  of  the  Church  of  England, 
not  only  in  these  British  Islands  but  in  every  one  of  the 
Dominions,  is  a  knowledge  of  the  most  close  and  in- 
timate nature.  He  knows  the  names  and  often  the 
character  of  men  who  are  working  in  the  remotest 
parishes  of  the  uttermost  parts  of  the  Empire.  He 
knows  also  their  thousand  difficulties  and  is  often  at 
pains  to  relieve  their  distresses.  This  devotion  has  an 
ideal  origin.  He  has  cherished  the  dream  all  his  life 
that  the  Church  of  England,  so  sane,  so  moderate,  so 
sensible,  and  so  rightly  insistent  on  moral  earnestness, 
may  become,  with  the  growth  and  development  of  the 
British  Commonwealth,  the  greatest  of  all  the  Christian 
Churches — greater,  more  catholic,  than  Rome. 

To  this  end  he  has  worked  with  a  devotion  and  a 
strain  of  energy  which  only  those  immediately  about 
him  can  properly  appraise. 


ARCHBISHOP  RANDALL  DAVIDSON     207 

Such  is  the  exhaustion  of  this  labour  that  when  he 
can  find  time  to  take  a  day  off  he  spends  it  in  bed. 

His  policy  has  always  been  to  keep  men  reasonable, 
but  with  no  ignoble  idea  of  living  a  quiet  life.  His 
powers  of  persuasion,  which  have  succeeded  so  often 
in  making  unreasonable  men  temporarily  reasonable, 
have  their  source  in  the  transparent  sincerity  of  his  soul. 
No  one  who  encounters  him  can  doubt  for  a  moment 
that  the  Primate  is  seeking  the  good  of  the  Church  of 
England,  and  seeking  that  good  because  he  believes  in 
the  English  Church  as  one  of  the  great  spiritual  forces 
of  civilisation.  No  one,  I  mean,  could  think  that  he  is 
either  temporising  for  the  sake  of  peace  itself  or  that  his 
policy  of  moderation  masks  a  secret  sympathy  with  a 
particular  party.  Clear  as  the  sun  at  noon  is  the  good- 
ness of  the  man,  his  unprejudiced  devotion  to  a  prac- 
tical ideal,  and  his  unselfish  ambition  for  the  reasonable 
future  of  the  great  Church  of  the  English  nation. 

He  gives  most  of  us  the  feeling  of  a  very  able  man  of 
business,  an  ideal  family  solicitor;  but  there  is  a  quite 
different  side  to  this  character.  He  is  by  no  means  a 
mystic,  as  that  word  is  usually  understood,  but  he  is  a 
man  who  deeply  believes  in  the  chief  instrument  of  the 
mystic's  spiritual  life,  that  is  to  say,  in  prayer.  He  is 
not  a  saint,  in  the  general  acceptance  of  that  term,  but 
his  whole  life  is  devoted  with  an  undeviating  singleness 
of  aim  to  effecting  the  chief  ambition  of  the  saint — a 
knowledge  of  God  in  the  hearts  and  minds  of  men. 
Because  he  believes  that  the  best  method  of  achieving 


2o8  PAINTED  WINDOWS 

that  consummation,  having  regard  to  the  present  level 
of  human  intelligence,  is  by  moderate  courses,  one  must 
not  think  that  he  is  lukewarm  in  the  cause  of  religion. 
With  all  the  force  of  his  clear  and  able  mind,  he  believes 
in  moderation.  Anything  that  in  the  least  degree  sa- 
vours of  extravagance  seems  to  him  impolitic.  He  does 
not  believe  in  sudden  bursts  of  emotional  energy;  he 
beUeves  in  constant  pressure. 

In  my  intercourse  with  him  I  have  found  him  emi- 
nently sane  and  judicial,  cold  towards  excessive  fervour, 
but  not  cold  at  all  towards  ardent  faith,  inclined  per- 
haps to  miss  the  cause  of  spiritual  impatience,  constitu- 
tionally averse  from  any  understanding  sympathy  with 
rehgious  ecstasy,  but  never  self-satisfied,  intolerant,  or 
in  the  remotest  fashion  cynical.  Always  he  expresses 
his  views  with  modesty,  and  sometimes  with  healthy 
good-humour,  disposed  to  take  life  cheerfully,  never 
moved  to  mistake  a  molehill  for  a  mountain,  always 
quietly  certain  that  he  is  on  the  right  road,  whatever 
critics  may  care  to  say  about  his  pace. 

It  is  perhaps  unreasonable  to  expect  height  and  depth 
where  there  is  excessive  breadth.  The  Archbishop 
might  make  a  bad  captain,  but  he  could  have  few  rivals 
as  an  umpire.  He  is  an  admirable  judge  if  an  indifferent 
advocate. 

His  grave  earnestness  is  balanced  by  a  conviction 
that  humotu"  is  not  without  a  serious  purpose.  He 
looks  upon  life  in  the  average,  avoiding  all  abnormality, 
and  he  sees  the  average  with  a  genial  smile.    He  thor- 


ARCHBISHOP  RANDALL  DAVIDSON     209 

oughly  appreciates  the  oddities  of  English  character, 
and  would  ask  Vv^ith  Gladstone,  "In  what  country  ex- 
cept ours  (as  I  know  to  have  happened)  would  a  Parish 
Ball  have  been  got  up  in  order  to  supply  funds  for  a 
Parish  Hearse?" 

His  attitude  to  the  excitements  and  sensations  of  the 
passing  day  may  be  gathered  from  a  simple  incident. 
During  the  most  heady  days  of  the  War,  that  is  to  say, 
days  when  people  made  least  use  of  their  heads,  I  en- 
countered him  at  the  country-house  of  a  well-known 
statesman.  One  morning,  while  we  were  being  lined  up 
for  a  photograph,  the  boar-hound  of  our  host  came  and 
forced  himself  between  the  Archbishop  and  myself. 
"What  would  the  newspapers  say,"  exclaimed  the 
Archbishop  in  my  ear,  "if  they  knew  that  his  name  is — 
Kaiser!'' 

In  this  manner  he  regards  all  sensational  excitement 
of  every  kind.  When  people  are  tearing  their  hair, 
and  the  welkin  rings  with  such  affrighting  cries  as  Down- 
fall and  Crisis,  the  Archbishop's  rather  solemn  and 
alarmed  countenance  breaks  up  into  a  genial  smile.  It 
is  when  people  are  immovable  in  otiose  self-satisfaction, 
when  the  air  is  still  and  when  lethargy  creeps  over  the 
whole  body  of  humanity,  that  the  face  of  Dr.  Davidson 
hardens.  There  is  nothing  he  dreads  more  than  apathy, 
nothing  that  so  stimulates  his  policy  of  constant  pres- 
sure as  inertia.  Ndengei,  the  supreme  deity  of  the  Fiji 
Islands,  the  laziest  of  all  the  gods,  has  the  serpent  for 
his  effigy.  "The  Devil  tempts  the  busy  man,"  says 
14 


210  PAINTED  WINDOWS 

a  Turkish  proverb,  "but  the  idle  man  tempts  the 
Devil." 

One  of  those  who  has  worked  with  the  Archbishop 
for  many  years,  although  his  views  are  of  a  rather  ex- 
treme order  and  his  temperament  altogether  of  the 
excessive  kind,  said  to  me  the  other  day,  "When  Ran- 
dall Davidson  went  to  Canterbury,  I  told  those  who 
asked  me  what  would  be  the  result  of  his  reign.  He 
will  leave  the  Church  as  he  found  it.  I  was  wrong.  He 
has  done  much  more  than  that."  He  went  on  to  say 
that  there  was  now  a  far  greater  charity  between  the 
different  schools  than  existed  at  the  beginning  of  the 
century,  and  that  if  unity  had  not  been  attained,  at  least 
disruption  had  been  avoided. 

One  of  the  most  eloquent  and  far-sighted  of  the 
Evangelicals  puts  the  matter  to  me  in  this  fashion: 
"It  is  possible  that  fifty  years  hence  men  may  ask 
whether  he  ought  not  to  have  been  constructive;  but 
for  the  present  we,  his  contemporaries,  must  confess 
that  it  is  wonderful  how  he  keeps  things  together." 

"Pull  yourself  together!"  was  the  admonition  ad- 
dressed to  a  somewhat  hilarious  undergraduate.  "But 
I  haven't  got  a  together,"  he  made  answer. 

If  it  be  true  that  a  house  divided  against  itself  cannot 
stand,  then  we  must  admit  that  Dr.  Randall  Davidson 
is  not  merely  one  of  the  Church's  greatest  statesmen, 
but  a  worker  of  miracles,  a  man  whom  we  might 
expect  to  take  up  serpents  and  drink  any  deadly 
thing. 


ARCHBISHOP  RANDALL  DAVIDSON     211 

But  it  will  be  safe  to  keep  the  Archbishop's  reputation  ^'« 
in  the  region  of  statesmanship. 

The  reader,  I  hope,  will  not  think  me  either  pedantic 
or  superciHous  if  I  insist  that  no  word  is  more  misused  by 
the  newspapers,  indeed  by  the  whole  modern  world, 
than  this  word  statesmanship.  It  is  a  word  of  which 
the  antonym  is  drifting.  It  signifies  steersmanship,  and 
impHes  control,  guidance,  direction,  and,  obviously, 
foresight.  Now,  let  us  see  how  this  word  is  used  by 
those  who  are  supposed  to  instruct  pubHc  opinion. 

The  settlement  of  the  Irish  Question  was  hailed  as  a 
triumph  of  British  statesmanship.  One  of  the  Sunday 
newspapers  of  the  higher  order  acclaimed  Mr.  Lloyd 
George  as  the  greatest  statesman  in  the  history  of 
England  and  perhaps  the  greatest  man  in  the  world. 
But  it  needs  only  a  little  thought,  only  a  moment's  re- 
flection, to  realise  that  this  welcome  settlement  was  a 
triumph,  not  of  statesmanship,  but  of  murderous  brutal- 
ity. There  would  have  been  no  paeans  if  there  had  been 
no  volleys,  no  triumph  if  there  had  been  no  violence. 

Statesmanship  was  defeated  in  the  eighties,  and  those 
who  defeated  it,  those  who  exalted  prejudice  and  racial- 
ism and  intolerance  above  rationaHty  and  foresight, 
are  now  among  those  whom  the  world  salutes  as  im- 
mortal statesmen.  In  truth,  they  have  bowed  the  knee 
to  violence. 

By  the  same  power,  and  not  by  reason,  the  Govern- 
ment extended  the  franchise  to  women.  Statesmanship 
held  firmly  on  the  contrary  course  till  the  winds  of  vio- 


212  PAINTED  WINDOWS 

lence  rose  and  the  rain  of  anarchy  threatened  to  de- 
scend in  a  flood  of  moral  devastation. 

Look  closely  into  the  great  achievements  of  the 
Washington  Conference  and  you  will  find  that  the  na- 
tions are  not  voluntarily  seeking  the  rational  ideal  of 
peace,  but  are  being  driven  by  urgent  necessity  into 
the  course  of  reason.  Statesmanship  would  have  dis- 
armed the  world  before  1914.  It  was  only  after  191 8 
that  the  spectre  of  Universal  Bankruptcy  drove  the 
poor  trembling  immortals  who  pass  for  statesmen  to 
embrace  each  other  as  heroes  in  search  of  an  ideal. 
Humanity  has  achieved  nothing  noble  or  glorious  in  the 
last  thirty  years ;  it  has  been  driven  by  the  winds  of  God 
into  every  haven  which  has  saved  it  from  shipwreck. 

With  a  clear  understanding  of  the  meaning  of  the 
word  statesmanship,  one  may  ask  with  some  hope 
of  arriving  at  an  intelligent  answer  whether  Randall 
Davidson  is  a  great  statesman. 

Under  his  rule  a  divided  and  distracted  Church  has 
held  together ;  but  religion  has  gone  out  of  favour.  Dur- 
ing his  reign  at  Lambeth  there  has  been  a  sensible  move- 
ment towards  reunion;  but  the  nation  is  uninterested. 
If  the  Romanists  have  been  less  rebellious,  the  Evangel- 
icals have  lost  almost  all  their  zeal.  If  the  Church  still 
witnesses  to  the  truth  of  Christianity,  it  is  with  all  her 
ancient  inequalities  thick  upon  her,  turning  her  idealism 
to  ridicule,  and  in  the  midst  of  a  nation  which  has  be- 
come steadily  more  and  more  indifferent  to  the  Church, 
more  and  more  cynical  towards  religion. 


ARCHBISHOP  RANDALL  DAVIDSON     213 

If  there  is  peace  in  the  Church,  there  is  little  of  that 
moral  earnestness  in  the  life  of  the  nation  which  in  past 
times  laid  the  foundations  both  of  English  character 
and  of  EngHsh  greatness.  We  are  becoming  swiftly, 
I  think,  a  light  and  flippant  people,  the  only  seriousness 
in  our  midst  the  economic  seriousness  of  our  depressed 
classes.  It  is  not  to  any  other  class  in  the  community 
that  the  zealot  can  address  himself  with  an  evangel  of 
any  kind.  Only  where  a  sense  of  bitterness  exists,  a 
sense  of  anger  and  rebellion,  can  the  idealist  in  these 
dangerous  times  hope  for  attention. 

The  Bishop  of  Manchester  preached  some  few  weeks 
ago  a  sermon  to  the  unemployed  of  that  city.  He  was 
asked  at  the  end  of  his  sermon  if  the  workers  could  get 
justice  without  the  use  of  force.  He  replied,  "It  all 
depends  what  you  mean  by  force."  And  at  that  the 
congregation  shouted,  "Murder."  They  were  to  have 
concluded  the  service  with  the  hymn,  "When  wilt  Thou 
save  Thy  people?"  Instead,  it  concluded  with  the 
singing  of  "The  Red  Flag." 

Now  let  us  ask  ourselves  what  might  have  been  the 
course  of  religious  history  during  the  last  twenty  years 
if  Dr.  Randall  Davidson,  instead  of  contenting  himself 
with  composing  clerical  quarrels,  had  used  his  high 
office  to  control  the  Church  and  to  steer  it  in  the  direc- 
tion of  greater  spiritual  realism. 

Suppose,  for  example,  that  after  presiding  over  a 
conference  of  warring  Churchmen,  he  had  turned  to  one 
of  the  champions  of  a  party,  and  had  said  to  him,  in  the 


214  PAINTED  WINDOWS 

manner  of  a  true  spiritual  father,  "I  have  something  to 
ask  of  you.  What  was  the  first  command  of  our  Risen 
Lord  to  the  apostle  Simon  Peter  ? "  He  would  have  been 
obliged  to  answer,  * '  Feed  My  lambs. "  "  And  the  second 
command?"  And  he  would  have  been  obliged  to  say, 
' '  Feed  My  sheep. "  "  And  the  third  command  ? ' '  And 
again  he  would  have  been  obliged  to  say,  "Feed  My 
sheep."  Then,  what  had  they  all  said  if  the  Primate 
had  turned  to  both  sides  and  admonished  them  in  these 
words, ' '  My  brothers  in  Christ,  I  think  there  would  now 
be  no  disputation  among  you  if  instead  of  concerning 
yourselves  with  the  traditions  of  men  you  had  rather 
given  yourselves  entirely  to  obeying  the  commandment 
of  our  Risen  Lord"  ? 

But  the  question  would  remain,  With  what  food  is  the 
flock  to  be  fed  ? 

Is  it  possible  to  give  an  answer  to  this  question  which 
will  not  open  again  the  floodgates  of  controversy?  If 
that  is  so,  then  those  of  us  who  acknowledge  the  moral 
law  had  better  abandon  Christianity  altogether,  and 
set  ourselves  to  construct  a  new  and  unifying  gospel  of 
ethics  from  the  works  of  the  moraUsts.  For  the  world  is 
torn  asunder  by  strife,  and  contention  is  the  opportu- 
nity of  the  wolves.  Humanity  has  begun  to  apprehend 
this  truth.  It  has  begun  to  find  out  that  disarmament 
is  practical  wisdom ;  and  now  it  is  beginning  to  wonder 
whether  counsels  of  perfection  may  not  serve  its  domes- 
tic interests  with  a  higher  efficiency  than  the  compro- 
mises effected  by  unprincipled  politicians.    It  is  in  the 


ARCHBISHOP  RANDALL  DAVIDSON    215 

mood  to  listen  to  a  teacher  who  speaks  with  authority ; 
but  in  no  mood  to  listen  to  a  war  of  words. 

If  religion  cannot  speak  with  one  voice  in  the  world, 
it  had  better  adjourn,  like  the  plenipotentiaries  of  Sinn 
Fein  and  the  representatives  of  the  British  Govern- 
ment, to  a  secret  session.  It  must  come  to  an  under- 
standing with  itself,  an  agreement  as  to  what  it  means, 
before  mankind  will  recover  interest  in  its  existence. 


CHAPTER  XIII 
CONCLUSION 

The  fashion  of  this  world  passes  away,  and  it  is  with  what  is 
abiding  that  I  would  fain  concern  myself. — Goethe. 

The  breadth  of  my  life  is  not  measured  by  the  multitude  of  my 
pursuits,  nor  the  space  I  take  up  amongst  other  men;  but 
by  the  fulness  of  the  ivhole  life  which  I  know  as  mine. — F. 
H.  Bradley. 

We  are  but  at  the  very  beginning  of  the  knowledge  and  control 
of  our  minds;  but  with  that  beginning  an  immense  hope  is 
dawning  on  the  world. — "The  Times." 

The  Ideal  is  only  Truth  at  a  distance. — Lamartine. 

It  is  curious,  if  Christianity  is  from  heaven,  that  it 
exercises  so  Httle  power  in  the  affairs  of  the  human  race. 

Far  from  exercising  power  of  any  noticeable  degree, 
it  now  ceases  to  be  even  attractive.  The  successors  of 
St.  Paul  are  not  shaping  world  policy  at  Washington; 
they  are  organising  whist-drives  and  opening  bazaars. 
The  average  clergyman,  I  am  afraid,  is  regarded  in  these 
days  as  something  of  a  bore,  a  wet-blanket  even  at 
tea-parties. 

Something  is  wrong  with  the  Church.  It  is  impious 
to  think  that  heaven  interposed  in  the  affairs  of  himian- 
ity   to  produce  that  ridiculous   mouse,   the   modern 

216 


CONCLUSION  217 

curate.  No  teacher  in  the  history  of  the  world  ever 
occupied  a  lower  place  in  the  respect  of  men.  So  deep 
is  the  pit  into  which  the  modern  minister  has  fallen 
that  no  one  attempts  to  get  him  out.  He  is  abandoned 
by  the  world.  He  figures  with  the  starving  children  of 
Russia  in  appeals  to  the  charitable  an  object  of  pity. 
The  hungry  sheep  look  up  and  are  not  fed,  but  the 
shepherd  also  looks  up  from  his  pit  of  poverty  and 
neglect,  as  hungry  as  the  sheep,  hungry  for  the  bare 
necessities  of  animal  life. 

This  is  surely  a  tragic  position  for  a  preacher  of  good 
news,  and  a  teacher  sent  from  God. 

If  the  Christian  would  know  how  far  his  Church 
has  fallen  from  power,  let  him  reflect  that,  even  after  the 
sorrow  and  desolation  of  a  world  conflict,  there  is  no 
atmosphere  in  Europe  rendering  the  savagery  of  sub- 
marine warfare  unthinkable — utterly  unthinkable  to 
the  conscience  of  mankind. 

Mr.  Balfour  and  Lord  Lee  make  a  proposal  to  end 
this  devilish  warfare;  the  French  oppose;  newspapers 
open  a  crusade,  here  against  France,  there  against  Great 
Britain;  the  vital  interests  of  humanity  are  at  stake; 
the  door  will  either  be  opened  to  disarmament  or  closed 
against  peace  for  another  fifty  years;  and  Christ  is 
silent — the  Church  does  not  lift  even  three  fingers  to 
bless  the  cause  of  peace. 

Why  is  the  Church  so  powerless  ?  Why  is  it  she  has 
so  fatally  lost  the  attention  of  mankind? 

Is  it  not  because  she  has  nothing  to  give,  nothing 


2i8  PAINTED  WINDOWS 

to  teach?  Morals  are  older  than  Christianity,  and 
sacramental  religions  as  well.  Men  feel  that  they 
cannot  understand  the  immense  paraphernaHa  of  re- 
ligion and  its  unnatural  atmosphere  of  high  mystery; 
it  is  so  tremendous  a  fuss  about  so  very  small  a  result. 
If  God  is  in  the  Church,  why  doesn't  He  do  more  for  it, 
and  so  more  for  the  world?  The  revenues  of  reHgion 
are  still  enormous.     What  do  they  accompHsh? 

Men  who  think  in  this  way  are  not  enemies  of  reHgion, 
any  more  than  the  Jews  who  came  to  Jesus  were  enemies 
of  Judaism.  They  deserve  the  respect  of  the  Church. 
Indeed,  it  is  in  finding  an  answer  to  their  challenge  that 
the  Church  is  most  likely  to  find  a  solution  to  her  own 
problem.  But  that  answer  will  never  be  found  if  the 
Church  seeks  for  it  only  in  her  documents.  There  is 
another  place  in  which  she  must  look  for  the  truth  of 
Christ,  a  truth  as  completely  overlooked  by  the  modern- 
ist as  by  the  traditionalist :  it  is  in  the  movements  of  the 
soul,  in  the  world  of  living  men. 

I  believe  that  there  are  more  evidences  for  the  exist- 
ence of  Christ  in  the  modem  world  than  in  the  whole 
lexicon  of  theology.  I  believe  it  is  more  possible  to 
discern  His  features  and  to  feel  the  breath  of  His  lips 
by  confronting  the  discoveries  of  modem  science  than 
by  turning  back  the  leaves  of  religious  history  to  the 
first  blurred  pages  of  the  Christian  tradition.  I  believe, 
indeed,  that  it  is  now  wholly  impossible  for  any  man  to 
comprehend  the  Light  which  shone  upon  human  dark- 
ness nearly  two  thousand  years  ago  without  bringing  the 


CONCLUSION  219 

documents  of  the  Church  to  the  light  which  is  shining 
across  the  world  at  this  present  hour  from  the  torch  of 
science. 

"Why  seek  ye  the  living  among  the  dead?" 

For  twenty  years  I  have  followed  this  clue  to  the 
meaning  of  Christ  and  the  nature  of  His  message.  I 
have  seen  Darwinism,  the  very  foundation  of  modern 
materialism,  break  up  like  thin  ice  and  melt  away  from 
the  view  of  philosophy.  I  have  seen  evolution  betray 
one  of  its  greatest  secrets  to  the  soul  of  man — an  imma- 
nent teleology,  an  invisible  direction  towards  deeper 
consciousness,  an  intelligent  movement  towards  greater 
understanding.  And  I  have  seen  the  demonstration  by 
science  that  this  visible  and  tangible  world  in  its  final 
analysis  is  both  invisible  and  intangible — a  phantasm 
of  the  senses. 

I  may  be  allowed  perhaps  to  recall  the  incident 
which  first  set  me  to  follow  this  clue. 

One  day,  when  he  was  deep  in  his  studies  of  Radiant 
Matter,  Sir  WilHam  Crookes  touched  a  Httle  table 
which  stood  between  our  two  chairs,  and  said  to  me, 
"We  shall  announce  to  the  world  in  a  year  or  two,  per- 
haps sooner,  that  the  atoms  of  which  this  table  is  com- 
posed are  made  up  of  tiny  charges  of  electricity,  and  we 
shall  prove  that  each  one  of  those  tiny  electrons,  re- 
lative to  its  size,  is  farther  away  from  its  nearest 
neighbour  than  our  earth  from  the  nearest  star." 

I  have  lived  to  see  this  prophecy  fulfilled,  though 
its  implications  are  not  yet  understood. 


220  PAINTED  WINDOWS 

The  Church  does  not  yet  realise  that  physical  science, 
hitherto  regarded  as  the  enemy  of  religion  and  the 
mocker  of  philosophy,  presents  us  now  with  the  world 
of  the  transcendentalists,  the  world  of  the  metaphysi- 
cians, the  world  of  religious  seers — a  world  which  is  real 
and  visible  only  to  our  limited  senses,  but  a  world  which 
disappears  from  all  vision  and  definition  directly  we 
bring  to  its  investigation  those  ingenious  instruments 
of  science  which  act  as  extensions  of  our  senses. 

Every  schoolboy  is  now  aware  that  a  door  is  solid 
only  to  his  eyes  and  touch ;  that  with  the  aid  of  X-rays 
it  becomes  transparent,  the  light  passing  through  it  as 
water  passes  through  network,  revealing  what  is  on 
the  other  side.  Every  schoolboy  also  knows  that 
his  own  body  can  be  so  photographed  as  to  reveal  its 
skeleton. 

But  the  Church  has  yet  to  learn  from  M.  Bergson 
the  alphabet  of  this  new  knowledge,  namely,  that  our 
senses  and  our  reason  are  what  they  are  because  of  a 
long  evolution  in  action — not  in  pure  thought.  We 
have  got  our  sight  by  looking  for  prey  or  for  enemies, 
and  our  hearing  by  listening  for  the  movement  of  prey 
or  of  enemies.  Our  reason,  too,  is  fashioned  out  of  a 
long  heredity  of  action,  that  is  to  say  an  immemorial 
discipline  in  an  existence  purely  animal.  So  powerful 
is  the  influence  of  this  heredity,  so  real  seems  to  us  a 
physical  world  which  is  not  real,  so  infallible  seem  to  us 
the  senses  by  which  we  fail  to  live  successfully  even  as 
animals,  that,  as  Christ  said,  a  man  must  be  born  again 


CONCLUSION  221 

before  he  can  enter  the  Kingdom  of  God — that  is  to  say, 
before  he  can  behold  and  inhabit  ReaHty. 

At  the  head  of  this  chapter  I  have  set  a  quotation 
from  a  leading  article  in  The  Times  on  the  recent  lec- 
tures of  M.  Coue.  It  is  now  eighteen  years  ago,  tread- 
ing in  the  footsteps  of  Frederic  Myers,  that  I  discussed 
with  some  of  the  chief  medical  hypnotists  in  London 
and  Paris  the  phenomena  of  mental  suggestion.  It  was 
known  then  that  auto-suggestion  is  a  force  of  tremen- 
dous power.  It  was  stated  then  that  * '  an  immense  hope 
is  dawning  on  the  world,"  but  not  then,  not  even  now, 
is  it  realised  that  this  awkward  term  of  "auto- 
suggestion ' '  is  merely  a  synonym  for  the  more  beautiful 
and  ancient  words,  meditation  and  prayer. 

We  know  now  that  a  man  can  radically  change  his 
character,  can  uproot  the  toughest  habits  of  a  lifetime, 
by  telling  himself  that  his  will  is  master  in  his  house  of 
life. '  And  we  think  that  we  have  made  this  discovery, 
forgetting  that  Shakespeare  said  "The  love  of  heaven 
makes  us  heavenly,"  and  that  Christ  said,  "Blessed 
are  they  which  do  hunger  and  thirst  after  righteous- 
ness: for  they  shall  be  filled,"  and  "All  things,  what- 
soever ye  shall  ask  in  prayer,  believing,  ye  shall  receive, 
or,  as  Mark  has  it,  "What  things  soever  ye  desire,  when 
ye  pray,  believe  that  ye  receive  them,  and  ye  shall  have 
them,"  and  "According  to  your  faith  be  it  unto  you." 

With  our  present  knowledge  of  the  universe  and  of 
the  human  mind,  it  is  at  last  possible  for  us  to  perceive 

'At  Nancy  even  a  lesion  has  been  cured  by  suggestion. 


222  PAINTED  WINDOWS 

in  the  confused  records  of  the  New  Testament  the 
nature  of  Christ's  teaching.  He  loved  the  world  for  its 
beauty,  but  He  penetrated  its  delusions  and  breathed 
the  air  of  its  only  reality.  "Lay  not  up  for  yourselves 
treasures  upon  the  earth  .  .  .  but  lay  up  for  yourselves 
treasures  in  heaven  .  .  .  for  where  your  treasure  is, 
there  will  your  heart  be  also."  "What  is  a  man 
profited,  if  he  shall  gain  the  whole  world,  and  lose  his 
own  soul?  or  what  shall  a  man  give  in  exchange  for  his 
soul?"  "If  thou  canst  believe,  all  things  are  possible 
to  him  that  believeth. "  "  He  that  hath  ears  to  hear  let 
him  hear." 

His  world  was  always  the  world  of  thought.  The 
actual  deed  of  sin  was  merely  a  physical  consequence; 
the  cause  was  spiritual:  it  was  an  evil  thought;  to 
harbour  an  evil  thought  is  to  commit  the  sin.  He 
looked  into  the  hearts  of  men,  into  their  thoughts,  and 
there  only  He  found  their  reality.  All  else  was  transi- 
tory. All  else  would  see  corruption  and  die.  The  flesh 
profiteth  nothing.  But  the  thought  of  a  man — that  is 
to  say  the  region  now  being  explored  by  the  psycho- 
analyst, the  psycho-therapeutist,  and  the  psycho  I 
know  not  what  else — this  was  the  one  region  in  which 
Jesus  moved,  the  region  in  which  He  proclaimed  his 
transvaluation  of  values,  a  region  of  which  He  was  so 
complete  a  master  that  He  could  heal  delusion  at  a  word 
and  disorder  by  a  touch. 

One  does  not  perhaps  wholly  realise,  until  one  has 
read  the  muddied  works  of  modern  psychology,  how 


CONCLUSION  223 

sublime  was  the  soul  of  Jesus,  It  might  be  possible  to 
infer  His  divinity  from  the  simplicity  of  the  language 
and  the  white  purity  of  the  thought  with  which  He 
expressed  truths  of  the  prof oundest  significance  even  in 
regions  where  so  many  fall  into  unhealthiness.  "No 
man  can  serve  two  masters" — is  not  that  the  teaching 
of  the  modern  hypnotist  in  dealing  with  "a  divided 
self"?  "Set  your  affections  on  things  above" — is  not 
that  the  counsel  of  the  sane  psycho-analyst  in  treating 
a  diseased  mind?  "Ask,  and  it  shall  be  given  you; 
seek,  and  ye  shall  find;  knock,  and  it  shall  be  opened 
unto  you" — is  not  this  the  message  of  M.  Coue,  the 
teaching  of  auto-suggestion? — that  teaching  which 
makes  us  say  at  last  that  "an  immense  hope  is  dawning 
on  the  world." 

And,  in  sober  truth,  we  may  indeed  believe  that 
this  immense  hope  is  dawning  on  the  world ;  the  hope 
that  mankind  may  recognise  in  Jesus,  Who  called 
Himself  the  Light  of  the  World,  the  world's  great 
Teacher  of  Reality. 

Here  we  approach  that  unifying  principle  which  was 
the  object  of  our  quest  in  setting  out  to  explore  the 
chaos  of  opinion  in  the  modern  Church. 

Is  it  not  possible  that  the  Church  might  see  the  trivial 
unimportance  of  all  those  matters  which  at  present 
dismember  her,  if  she  saw  the  supreme  importance  of 
Christ  as  a  Teacher?  Might  she  not  come  to  behold  a 
glory  in  that  Teaching  greater  even  than  that  which  she 
has  so  heroically  but  so  unavailingly  endeavoured  to 


224  PAINTED  WINDOWS 

make  the  world  behold  in  the  crucified  Sacrifice  and 
Propitiation  for  its  sins? 

Is  there  not  here  the  opportunity  of  an  evangel, 
the  dawning  of  an  immense  hope  on  the  world? 

But  let  the  Church  ask  herself,  before  she  abandons 
her  labour  of  expounding  doctrines  concerning  the 
Person  of  Christ,  whether  she  is  quite  clear  as  to  the 
teaching  of  Jesus.  ' '  Not  every  one  that  saith  unto  Me, 
Lord,  Lord,  shall  enter  into  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven; 
but  he  that  doeth  the  will  of  My  Father  which  is  in 
heaven." 

Read  St.  Mark,  the  earliest,  the  least  corrupted, 
of  the  narratives.  It  is  a  declaration  of  a  new  power 
in  human  life,  and  a  record  of  its  achievements.  It  is 
this,  and  nothing  else.  The  one  great  word  of  that 
gospel  is  Faith — not  faith  in  a  formula  or  an  institution, 
but  faith  in  the  absolute  supremacy  of  spirit.  Faith 
in  spirit  means  power — power  over  circumstance,  power 
over  matter,  power  over  the  heredity  of  our  animal 
origin.  Jesus  not  only  sets  men  free  from  the  prison- 
house  of  material  delusion,  as  Plato  and  others  sought 
to  do;  He  teaches  them  the  way  in  which  alone  they 
can  exercise  spiritual  dominion. 

There  were  two  things  to  which  He  set  no  limits: 
one,  the  love  of  God,  and  the  other,  the  power  of  Faith. 

Let  all  the  schools  in  the  Church  revise  their  defi- 
nition of  the  word  faith,  and  unity  will  come  of  itself. 
Faith,  as  Jesus  employed  that  term,  meant  making  use 
of  belief — belief  that  the  spiritual  alone  is  the  real. 


CONCLUSION  225 

Faith  is  the  action  of  the  soul.  It  is  the  working  of  a 
power.     It  is  mastery  of  life. 

Let  the  Church  realise  that  Jesus  taught  this  power 
of  the  soul.  Let  her  begin  to  exercise  her  own  spiritual 
powers.  And  then  let  her  understand  that  she  is  in  the 
world  to  teach  men,  to  lead  the  advance  of  evolution,  to 
educate  humanity  in  the  use  of  its  highest  powers. 

A  knowledge  of  the  sense  in  which  Jesus  employed 
the  word  Faith  is  the  clue  to  the  recovery  of  Christian 
influence. 

This  is  the  suggestion  which  I  venture  to  submit 
to  the  Church,  at  a  moment  in  history  when  the  harsh 
and  brutal  spirit  of  materialism  is  crushing  all  faith  out 
of  the  soul  and  leaving  the  body  no  tenant  but  its 
appetites. 

I  do  not  think  any  observant  man  can  deny  that  the 
whole  "suggestion"  of  the  modern  world  is  of  an  evil 
nature,  that  is  to  say,  of  a  nature  which  fastens  upon  the 
mind  the  delusions  of  the  senses,  making  it  believe 
that  what  it  sees  is  reaHty,  persuading  it  that  the 
gratification  of  those  senses  is  the  end  and  object  of 
existence.  The  wages  of  this  suggestion  is  death — the 
death  of  the  soul. 

How  far  the  world  is  gone  from  sanity,  and  how 
clearly  science  endorses  Christ's  teaching,  may  be  seen  in 
the  modern  craze  for  unhealthy  excitement,  and  in  the 
medical  condemnation  of  that  morbid  passion.  A 
well-known  doctor  in  London,  Sir  Bruce  Bruce-Porter, 
has  lately  condemned  Grand  Guignol  as  intensifying 

IS 


226  PAINTED  WINDOWS 

the  emotion  of  fear  or  anxiety— "Take  no  heed"— and 
has  declared  anger,  or  any  violence  of  feeling,  to  be  a 
danger — ' '  Love  your  enemies ' ' — pointing  out  that ' '  the 
experiment  of  inoculating  a  guinea-pig  with  the  per- 
spiration taken  from  the  forehead  of  a  man  in  a  violent 
temper  has  resulted  in  the  death  of  the  guinea-pig  with 
all  the  symptoms  of  strychnine  poisoning." 

Science  is  the  one  voice  that  condemns  in  these 
days  the  self-destroying  madness  of  a  world  set  on 
seeking  to  live  habitually  in  the  lower  life.  Sometimes 
journaHsm  may  Hght  a  candle  of  reason  in  our  darkness, 
as  when  The  Times  recently  pointed  out  in  a  leading 
article  that  the  half-humorous  interest  of  the  world 
in  the  murderer  Landru  had  its  rise  in  a  profound 
instinct  of  the  human  spirit,  namely,  that  horror  must 
be  laughed  at  if  it  is  not  to  be  feared — to  fear  it  is  to  be 
overwhelmed  by  it.  This  instinct  is  "an  unconscious 
refusal  to  beHeve  in  the  ultimate  reality  of  evil;  it  is 
the  predecessor  of  the  scientific  spirit  which  says  that 
evil  is  something  to  be  overcome  by  understanding 
it." 

Out  of  such  a  lethargy  as  that  which  now  holds  her 
captive,  I  do  not  think  the  Church  can  be  roused 
except  by  the  trumpets  of  war.  Let  her,  then,  consider 
whether  there  is  not  here,  in  this  world  of  false  values, 
of  low  ambitions,  of  mean  pleasures,  of  dark  material- 
ism, and  of  perilous  superstitions,  a  world  to  be  fought, 
as  the  doctors  fight  it,  and  the  best  kind  of  newspapers, 
if  only  for  the  sake  of  posterity,  a  world  against  which  it 


CONCLUSION  227 

is  good  to  oppose  oneself — the  Children  of  Light  against 
the  Children  of  Darkness. 

What  is  the  good  news  of  Christianity  if  it  is  not  the 
news  that  "the  spiritual  alone  is  the  real,"  that  there  is 
freedom  for  human  life  and  mastery  for  the  human 
soul,  that  faith  in  the  spiritual  is  power  over  the  ma- 
terial? Even  in  the  tentative  form  which  M.  Bergson 
uses  to  reveal  the  reality  of  the  spiritual  world  there  is 
such  joy  that  one  of  his  interpreters  can  exclaim : 

Here  we  are  in  these  regions  of  twilight  and  dream, 
where  our  ego  takes  shape,  where  the  spring  within  us 
gushes  up,  in  the  warm  secrecy  of  the  darkness  which 
ushers  our  trembling  being  into  birth.  Distinctions  fail 
us.  Words  are  useless  now.  We  hear  the  wells  of 
consciousness  at  their  mysterious  task  like  an  invisible 
shiver  of  running  water  through  the  mossy  shades  of  the 
caves.  I  dissolve  in  the  joy  of  becoming,  I  abandon 
myself  to  the  delight  of  being  a  pulsing  reality.  I  no 
longer  know  whether  I  see  scents,  breathe  sounds,  or 
smell  colours.  Do  I  love?  Do  I  think?  The  question 
has  no  longer  a  meaning  for  me.  I  am,  in  my  complete 
self,  each  of  my  attitudes,  each  of  my  changes.  It  is  not 
my  sight  which  is  indistinct  or  my  attention  which  is  idle. 
It  is  I  who  have  resumed  contact  with  pure  reahty,  whose 
essential  movement  admits  no  form  of  number. 

How  much  greater  the  joy  of  him  who  knows  that 
Reality  is  God,  and  that  God  is  Father. 

The  open  secret  flashes  on  the  brain. 
As  if  one  almost  guessed  it,  almost  knew 
Whence  we  have  sailed  and  voyage  whereunto. 


228  PAINTED  WINDOWS 

Let  us  suppose  that  the  whole  Church  of  Christ  was 
engaged  in  teaching  men  this  high  mystery,  this  open 
secret,  that  all  such  great  associations  as  the  Christian 
Students'  Movement,  the  Adult  Sunday  School  Move- 
ment, the  World  Association  for  Adult  Education,  and 
all  the  numerous  Missionary  Societies  throughout  the 
whole  earth — let  us  suppose  that  the  entire  Church  of 
Christ  was  at  work  in  the  world  teaching  Christ's  teach- 
ing, educating  men,  bringing  it  home  to  the  heart  and 
mind  of  humanity  that  "life  is  mental  travel,"  that  it  is 
in  our  thoughts  we  live  and  by  our  thoughts  we  are 
shaped,  that  flesh  and  blood  cannot  inherit  the  King- 
dom of  God,  that  all  terrestrial  values  are  radically 
false,  that  to  hunger  and  thirst  after  anything  is  to  get 
it,  that  the  power  of  "the  dominant  wish"  is  our  fate, 
that  in  love  alone  can  we  live  to  the  full  statture  of  our 
destiny,  that  the  Kingdom  of  God  is  within  us,  that  the 
engine  of  faith  has  not  yet  been  exerted  by  the  whole 
human  race  in  concert,  that  conquests  await  us  in  the 
spiritual  world  before  which  all  the  conquests  of  the 
material  world  will  pale  into  insignificance,  that  we  are 
spirits  finding  our  way  out  of  the  darkness  of  an  animal 
ancestry  into  the  Light  of  an  immortal  inheritance  as 
children  of  God ;  let  us  suppose  that  this,  and  not  dogma 
was  the  Voice  of  the  Church ;  must  we  not  say  that  by 
such  teaching  the  whole  world  would  eventually  be 
rescued  from  oiur  present  chaos  and  in  the  fulness  of 
time  be  bom  again  into  the  knowledge  of  spiritual 
reality? 


CONCLUSION  229 

I  believe  it  is  only  when  a  man  realises  that  in  its 
final  analysis  the  whole  universe  is  invisible,  and 
ceases  to  think  of  himself  as  an  animal  and  becomes 
profoundly  sensible  of  himself  as  a  spirit,  and  a  spirit 
in  communion  with  a  spiritual  reality  closer  than  hands 
and  feet,  that  it  is  possible  for  him  to  fulfil  the  two  great 
commandments  on  which  hang  all  the  Law  and  the 
Prophets.  And  without  that  fulfilment  there  must 
always  be  chaos. 

If  the  Church  will  not  teach  the  world,  modern  science 
will  inspire  philosophy  to  take  up  anew  the  teaching  of 
Plato,  and  the  world  will  go  forward  into  the  light,  but 
with  no  creative  love  in  its  soul  to  save  it  from  itself. 
"If  therefore,"  said  Christ,  "the  light  that  is  in  thee  be 
darkness,  how  great  is  that  darkness." 


By  the  Author  of 

"The  Mirrors  of  Downing  Street" 

THE  GLASS  OF 
FASHION 

SOME  SOCIAL  REFLECTIONS 

The  Author  prefers  to  remain  anonymous 
He  signs  himself 

A  GENTLEMAN  WITH  A  DUSTER 

With  Portraits 

"  The  Gentleman  with  a  Duster  **  who  so  mercilessly 
and  brilliantly  clarified  the  mirrors  of  Downing  Street, 
now  turns  his  attention  to  English  Society — and  what  a 
drubbing  it  gets.  Perhaps  the  sorriest  victims  to  fall 
under  his  cleanser  are  Col.  Repington  and  Margot 
Asquith.  His  name  for  the  latter  will  surely  stick — "  The 
Grandmother  of  the  Flapper."  But  society  at  large  is 
not  spared,  and  there  can  be  no  question  as  to  the  sin- 
cerity of  the  author.  The  Spectator,  realizing  this,  says. 
'*  The  book  is  not  a  piece  of  mere  Grubb  Street  morality 
prepared  by  someone  who  thinks  that  this  is  the  dish  the 
public  desires  at  the  moment." 

The  Glass  of  Fashion  is  at  times  savagely  ferocious,  but 
it  scintillates  brilliancy  throughout. 


NEW  YORK    G.  P.  PUTNAM'S  SONS      London 


12th  Printing 

The  Mirrors  of  Downing  Street 

By  '^A  Gentleman  with  a  Duster" 

800,  With  12  Portraits 

A  selection  from  a  host  of  reviews  of  an  amazing  and 
brUliant  volume: 

"  Since  Lytton  Strachey  shocked  and  amused  us  by  his  Eminent  Victorians,  no 
book  written  by  an  Englishman  has  been  so  audacious,  so  reckless,  so  clever, 
and  so  full  of  prejudices,  apparently  based  on  principles." — Maurice  Francis 
Egan  in  the  New  York  Times. 

"Of  fascinating  interest,  with  a  style  pungent  and  epigrammatic  .  .  .  does  not 
contain  a  dull  line  .  .  .  there  is  scarcely  one  of  the  great  controversies  which 
agitated  British  political  waters  during  £ind  since  the  Wcir  that  is  not  touched 
on  .  .  .  the  author  is  partisan  in  his  friendships,  and  he  is  a  good  hater,  so 
his  work  is  altogether  engaging." — New  York  Herald. 

"A  very  serious  book,  without  being  heavy,  a  daring  work,  without  being 
reckless.  It  is  judicial  in  tone,  endeavoring  to  give  each  man  his  due,  setting 
down  naught  in  malice  or  partiality  ...  a  work  of  keen  interest  and  highly 
illuminating." — Cincinnati  Times-Star. 

"  This  book  of  scintillating  wit  and  almost  uncanny  power  of  vivid  phrase- 
making." — N.  Y.  Evening  Mail. 

•*  It  is  a  book  that  every  intelligent  person  should  read,  dispelling,  as  it  does, 
a  number  of  the  illusions  to  which  war  conditions  have  given  birth  .  .  .  the 
book  is  one  to  be  read  for  its  light  on  specific  facts  and  on  individual  men. 
Often  the  author's  least  elaborated  statements  are  the  most  startling  .  .  . 
it  is  written  with  the  vim  and  audacity  of  Lytton  Strachey's  Eminent 
Victorians,  and  it  has  in  addition  a  very  vivid  news  interest,  and  it  is  just 
both  in  its  iconoclasm  and  in  its  frank  hero  worship — of  the  right  heroes." 
— Chicago  Post. 

"It  is  one  of  the  few  cases  of  a  startling  work  being  also  a  fine  piece  of 
literature  .  .  .  the  author  is  obviously  on  the  inside.  No  merely  imaginative 
person  could  have  produced  such  a  picture  gallery." — N.  Y.  Evening  Telegram. 

"One  of  the  most  interesting  studies  that  has  been  presented  to  English 
or  American  public." — Troy  Record. 

The  Men  in  the  Mirrors :  Mr.  Lloyd  George — Lord  Carnock — 
Lord  Fisher — Mr.  Asquith — Lord  Northclif fe — Mr.  Arthur  Balfour — 
Lord  Kitchener — Lord  Robert  Cecil — Mr.  Winston  Churchill — Lord 
Haldsuie — Lord  Roberts — Lord  Inverforth — Lord  Leverhulme. 


New  York  C  P.  PUTNAM'S  SONS  London 


EMINENT  VICTORIANS 

By  LYTTON  STRACHEY 

800.     With  Portraits 

A  selection  from  a  host  of  reviews  of  this  brilliant  and 
extraordinarily  witty  book : 

The  New  York  Times — "There  is  every  temptation  to  quote  from  this 
volume,  for  it  abounds  in  striking  stories  and  brilliant  interpretations. 
.  .  .  Mr.  Strachey  has  not  written  history  in  the  usual  fashion,  but  he 
has  made  a  notable  contribution  to  that  prodigious  undertaking,  the 
history  of  the  Victorian  Age." 
The  Outlook—"  Brilliant." 

The  Metropolitan — "It  is  one  of  the  few  current  books  that  I  would 
specially  recommend  as  worth  reading.  He  is  a  refreshing,  brave,  witty, 
and  large-minded  biographer." — Clarence  Day,  Jr. 

The  Chicago  Dzdly  News — "  Lytton  Strachey  can  write  circles  around 
any  living  biographer;  can  give  handicaps  to  any  living  essayist  and 
match  the  most  touted  workers  in  the  language  with  one  hand  tied 
behind  his  back.  .  .  .  When  you  have  read  the  last  line  of  these  soul- 
portraits  you  are  aware  of  the  stark  truthfulness  of  the  work.  It  is  not 
only  art — it  is  reality." 

The  New  York  Tribune — "  We  receive  Mr.  Strachey's  volume  with 
gratitude  and  joy.  .  .  .  Profound  sincerity  of  both  constructive  and 
destructive  criticism,  sanity  of  judgment  and  splendor  of  spirit  make 
this  volume  a  memorable  tribute  to  one  of  the  most  memorable  eras 
in  the  history  of  the  human  intellect." 

The  Chicago  Tribune — "  One  of  the  outstanding  biographical  works  in 
English  literature.  ...  In  a  generation  that  produces  one  Strachey 
there  bob  up  several  thousand  professional  mourners,  who  model  their 
style  and  general  appreciation  of  the  truth  upon  epitaphs.  .  .  .  Strachey 
wields  one  of  the  most  engaging  pens  now  employed  in  literature.  His 
humor  is  unfailing,  but  always  smooth,  unforced,  ironic.  He  knows  the 
satiric  value  of  hyperbole  and  antithesis.  His  book  is  altogether  a 
remarkable  performance.  ...  In  his  gallery  are  portraits  of  familiar 
personages  wearing  new  expressions,  and  the  manner  of  presentation 
is  that  of  a  cultivated  and  penetrating  artist.  The  volume  is  recom- 
mended eagerly  to  all  lovers  of  vivid  and  daring  biography." 
The  Springfield  Republican — "Mr.  Strachey's  wit  gives  stimulating 
piquancy  to  a  style  at  once  brilliant  and  pure.  His  power  of  illuminat- 
ing the  figures  which  he  presents  is  matched  by  his  ability  to  interest 
the  reader  in  his  craftmanship." 

The  Hartford  Times — "  Under  his  pointed,  facile,  and  illuminating  pen 
dry-as-dust  facts  become  of  absorbing  interest.  It  is  astonishing  what 
he  can  do  to  make  a  *  life '  worth  reading." 

The  Indianapolis  News  —  "Mr.  Strachey  has  succeeded  notably  in 
making  biography  more  dramatic  and  fascinating  than  fiction." 

New  York  G.  p.  PUTNAM'S  SONS  London 


"An  instantaneous  success 


ff 


Mirrors    of  Washington 

Anonymous 

Octavo.        Portraits 

HARDING  It  does  to  our  great  and  near-great 
WILSON  what  the  "gentleman  with  a  duster" 
HUGHES  *did  to  eminent  Englishmen  in  "The 
HARVEY  Mirrors  of  Downing  Street."  It  tells 
HOUSE  painfully  plain  truths  about  the  per- 
HOOVER  sonalities  of  those  in  whose  hands  our 
nnQ'T  destinies  lie  or  have  lain.    It  is  search- 

rjrrp«        ing  in  its  analyses,  and  contains  four- 
teen  discerning,  piercing,  sometimes 
^^ —        satirical,  always   brilliant,  character 
MM  studies.     "And,"  says  the  N.  Y,  Eve. 

PENROSE  pQsf^^  "it  contains  indiscretions  deli- 
LANSING  cious  enough  to  satisfy  the  most 
BARUCH  exacting."  14  portraits  and  14 
JOHNSON    amusing  caricatures  by  Cesare. 

Chicago  Daily  News s  "We  recommend  it  because  it 
gives  a  startling  and  clear  picture  of  Washington's 
fourteen  great  political  figures  —  an  unusual  picture, 
quite  different  from  anything  we  have  had  thus  far  in 
American  critical  writing.  A  chuckling  expose  of  the 
good  and  bad  in  American  politics  .  .  .  succinct  word 
pictures,  penetrating  anecdotes  .  .  .  not  vicious  .  . 
gently,  with  a  charmingly  unobtrusive  sapiency,  the 
mysterious  pen  has  traced  the  ludicrous  outlines  of  the 
nation's  anointed.  .  .  .  The  book  should  be  read  by  all 
hands  and  all  parties.  It  is  not  partisan  .  .  .  the  sort 
of  education  which  may  be  acquired  once  in  a  lifetime." 


G.  P.  Putnam's  Sons 

New  York  London 


COLUMBIA  UNIVERSITY  LIBRARY 

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expiration  of  a  definite  period  after  the  date  of  borrowing, 
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